


I Want a Revelation

by CMo_AllTheTime



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Historical, Butch in the Street- Femme in the Sheets, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/F, First Time, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-10-21 02:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMo_AllTheTime/pseuds/CMo_AllTheTime
Summary: Revolutionary War / Hamilton AUWhen young, rebellious, Nicole Haught is chased out of Salem, Massachusetts by an angry mob, her story has only just begun. Her life transforms when she is taken under the wing of a dapper ship captain, who quickly gives her the pseudonym, Nick.While helping smuggle goods for the rebellion, Nick meets Wynonna, Dolls and Waverly at the Short Man tavern outside Boston. Hearts go BOOM with some trouble along the way from British Captain Robert Swain.A slow burn build up to Ch. 4 Wayhaught action. I realized it's a bit more E than M so I've changed the rating.





	1. Not Throwing Away My Shot

_Outside Salem, Massachusetts, 1772_

________

The night was dark and cold. Nicole hugged her brother with both arms, as if they would never see each other again. At that very moment, it seemed likely they _would_ never see each other again.

He whispered into her ear, “Take care of yourself, Haught.”

She held him close, “Thank you, thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to be free.”

Her heart was still pounding from the terror of mob and her sudden escape. She felt safe in her brother's care. Only now, did she see the unknown nature of her future circumstances with a hand raised in the distance and a small boat on the edge of the water.

Nicole stepped into the small dingy with her brother’s friend-and-confidante in the stern. She found a seat in the bow as her brother pushed them out to sea. She held firmly to the seat as the waves crashed against the boat. The pair paddled off into the darkness of the night, as the mob of townsfolk bearing burning torches neared. She looked off to the Eastern horizon, not knowing where fate would take her.

As much as she had been shaken, Nicole knew this was her chance. She thought to herself, _I am not throwing away my shot._

She looked ahead to the silhouette of the ship and then to her host, Nathan Green.

Her brother, Nigel had asked the man to take Nicole on very short notice with almost no other information. A simple note written on paper and rushed to the port by a man with a fast horse and in need of some silver coins.

Nicole was hiding from the town of Salem. They were on a witch-hunt for the redhead who had sullied the reverend’s daughter. In other words, they were after Nicole. They watched the crowd move and her brother’s buggy speed away.

Nicole turned to Nathan Green who seemed to know nothing of this controversy. She said, “I can’t thank you enough.”

He answered Nicole’s gratitude with the same easy smile her brother was known for, “Anything for your brother Nigel.”

As part of her fugitive escape Nicole was wearing her brother’s clothes. She looked down at the brown trousers and thick wool vest. His sleeves reached past her wrists, so she rolled them up out of the way and took the second oar from her host, sliding in next to him.

Nathan could sense her nerves and tried to calm her, “You look a lot like your brother.”

She answered, “All the Haughts look alike on the outside, but Nigel and I are the true black sheep. Wolves in sheep’s clothing” She put her first finger to her lips, “Don’t tell anyone.”

Nathan steadied one hand on the oar and reached out to give his companion a gentle jibe with his fist, “That’s just one of many secrets you’ll have to trust with me, Ni…” He stopped himself and put his freehand to his chin in thought. “Nick. How about we call you Nick?”

Nathan settled into a steady pace, rowing into the darkness. “So Nick. I like black sheep _and_  I could use a new cook on my ship, the Whisper. Do you know your way around a ship galley?"

Her brow was furrowed, but she said, "I'm a very quick leaner. I promise I won't be a burden."

"There’s only one catch. _There are no women on my ship_. Whisper is a place for men only, or thereabouts.” He winked.

Nicole had not realized what she was heading into but she had few other options at this point. She looked again at the wooden buttons n her brother’s vest and shrugged. “Whatever oyou say captain.”

Nicole steadied her three-pointed hat against the wind and pulled hard on the oar.

_\---- A few months earlier---_

_Back in Salem, Nicole always woke up with the sun, gathering eggs, lighting the stove and mixing up griddlecakes. Her father and her three older brothers were out in the barn or the yard._

_The family gathered at breakfast table, where their father, Cotton Haught, said grace. He praised the Lord for the bounty and asked for strength in the face of temptation. He was devout. He believed in the teachings of the church founders, even years ago when it cost him his wife. The forces of the devil could fool even the strongest of men. Women were even more prone. Although the new country had brought them many freedoms, temptation was never far off. And there was a price to be paid. Every day he bore the burden of his wife's fall from grace. As he spoke the somber words of his prayer, young Nicole poked her brother Nigel and stuck out her tongue._

_The meal was quiet. Their father's furrowed brow and firm fists kept conversation to a minimum._

_Despite her father’s strict rules and quick temper, Nicole was fearless. In that fiery spirit, Nigel saw traces of his mother, whom he missed dearly._

_Nigel was afraid of their father and the lashing he gave._

_But Nicole was head-string and brave, too much for a girl. Her rebellious ways grewas she verged on womanhood._

_Nigel had seen her sneak a hard candy from the grocer. She made up rhymes that changed the meaning of the Psalms read in church. There was not a dare she would not take. As the youngest in a family full of boys, she had eaten bugs, crossed spring creeks on narrow branches and bested each of them sword fighting with sticks in the yard. All of these activities were kept hidden from their father, who would have no such silliness sully his family name._

_Nigel would warn Nicole._

_He had even suggested that a certain “devilish spirit” had gotten into her but nothing would dissuade her._

_She read Song of Solomon and the Book of Ruth. As the rest of their family bowed their heads in prayer, Nigel could see Nicole’s imagination take her to someplace outside the walls of the house._

_That summer, Nicole had snuck a bottle of hard cider and hidden it in the barn for safekeeping._

_She planned on sharing it with Jane. Over the spring and summer the girls became bosom friends. When they were alone, they would joke and laugh in a way that they knew the townsfolk would disapprove of. Just the thought of their own outsider status made them laugh even more._

_Later when Jane came over to peel and dry apples, they snuck into the barn. They shared the bottle, downing it quickly and falling into a pile of hay as the alcohol pulsed through their veins._

_Neither had ever had a sip of real cider before and the effect was powerful._

_In typical fashion, the girls turned to mocking their elders. In her bravado, Nicole was mimicking a particularly handsome young man, who had caught many a young girl’s eye. She flirted brazenly with Jane._

_Jane feigned a swoon and batted her eyes back at Nicole. Nicole took Jane by the hand and pulled her closer for a kiss on the back of Jane’s hand._

_The irony of the gesture immediately fell away as the young women drew closer to each other. Their faces were inches apart._

_Nicole said, “Miss Jane, I think you bring out the devil in me.” She touched her dear friend’s cheek and then grazed the bottom edge Jane’s lips with her thumb._

_Jane gasped at Nicole’s touch._

_Jane said, “How can such a heavenly feeling have anything to do with the devil?” She leaned up and kissed Nicole so gently that their lips barely touched._

_Nicole could feel the blood rising in her cheeks and her heart beating in her throat. She pressed their lips closer; daring to move her lips just the slightest bit. A real kiss_

_The pair heard the sound of a wagon in the distance and pushed themselves apart, smoothly the fronts of their dresses. Nicole thought of her father finding them in the barn and the questions he would ask, even those unspoken. She stood quickly and reached out to grab her friend’s hand._

_Nicole felt her heart dangling over a precipice. She felt elated and nervous at the same time. In the back of her mind, she heard the words of her father; the reverend and even her dear brother gentle cautioning her._

_She had been on this road of ruin for a long time now. And only now did she see where it was leading. She had felt a moment of joy that they would denounced as lust._

_She had tasted the fruit of Jane’s lips. In those moments of revelation from the kiss to the goodbye, Nicole travelled from a great high to a sudden lack of certainty. She did not know what the future would be, for a woman like her._

_That fall and winter, there were many stolen moments between the two girls. Until one fateful day, when they were caught. And Nicole took all the blame. Anything to protect her Jane._

________

Life on the Whisper passed steadily for Nicole. Colonial traffic was busy and growing with new towns sprouting up like weeds.

Weeks turned to months. Time flew by. It had been a few years since Nick had joined the crew. She had a routine on and off the ship and a correspondence with her brother, using her new pseudonym, that tied her to her brother, while the distance grew between her old life and her new one.

Her captain Nathan was allied with the growing patriots movement and frequently sidestepped the growing tariffs at out-of-the-way harbors and secret rendezvous. Nicole was his trusted Lieutenant. Their secrets kept them close. In truth, they were best friends. She watched his back among dubious company and kept him company on shore leave. Over the years, Nathan Nick gave Nick his trademark advice: _Talk less. Smile more._ And it worked.

________

_Short Man Tavern and Inn, Outside Boston, Massachusetts, 1776_

________

The crew of the Whisper was stopping outside Boston for another covert operation. Nathan had been sent by John Laurens to meet a contact inland. As usual, Nick joined him.

In the bustle of the morning street, Nick was stopped in her tracks by the sight of a young woman buying a broadsheet from a street vendor. Her light brown hair was blowing in the breeze as she took long strides across down the street. Nick strained her neck to keep an eye on the girl, but she was moving too quickly, despite the fact that she was reading as she walked. She wove in and out of the busy street and then was gone.

Nick tapped her friend on the shoulder, “I’ll meet you back here in a few.”

Nathan tipped his hat in understanding and Nick was off the find the girl. She traced her steps past a small barn and stable and then to the doors of a public house, The Short Man.

Nick made mental note of the name and a plan to return.

It was unlike her to be so captivated. She smiled to herself and went back to her captain.

When reconnecting with Nathan, the pair just nodded at each other and went on with their mission. Years as friends let them communicate without words. It was handy on the ship and in the docks where negotiations moved to quickly. Nathan trusted Nicole's instincts and she deferred to his experience.

At the post office, Nathan peeled back a black wax seal and unfolded a small paper note. He turned to his companion, “Looks like this one’s top secret. You’ll have to entertain yourself in town, while I head out to meet up. Keep your eyes and ears open for the red coats while I’m gone. Did you see a place I could get a horse?”

Nick could feel her blood rise to her cheeks as she answered, “I know just the place.”

//

Inside the tavern, Waverly Earp held the broadsheet and read aloud to the small group gathered at the bar, “Listen to this. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

Xavier Dolls was dubious, “Do you really think a man like Thomas Jefferson means _all_ men?” He took the paper in his hands for a closer read.

Her sister Wynonna, ever the contrarian, expanded on the challenge Dolls had made, “And really, why _just_ men?”

“Why men?” Dolls read on, “It says here, we _men_ are _endowed_ by our Creator.” He stopped right there, letting the innuendo hang in midair. His eyes bulged out and stared at Wynonna, who stared right back, wrinkling her nose.

Waverly was getting a little frustrated by the silliness. She grabbed the paper from his hands, and completed the phase, “endowed with certain inalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Wynonna sneered, “These guys are about six months late for Shorty. But I’m all for a little pursuit of happiness, if you get my drift.” She reached around the back of the counter for a bottle.

Waverly saved her from her fumbling and handed her the whiskey she was after, shaking her head in mild disapproval.

From the street, Dolls heard the town crier announcing it was ten o’clock and got down from the bar stool to excuse himself. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me. I have an appointment. I’ll be taking the grey mare. I’ll be back in time to help with dinner rush in the stables if Hardy flakes again.” He found his black coat and matching hat.

Just as Dolls was at the back door, Waverly called out, “If you _do_ see Hardy, will you remind him to clean the stables before lunch.” Her voice trailed off in resignation, “”It smells to high heaven…”

Waverly knew her heart wasn’t bound to the handsome blockhead, Champlain Hardy– but with Shorty gone, he was good for carrying heavy things and a little snog now and then. For months, the malaise of the tavern had left her under a cloud. A little fling with the stable boy had been a temporary distraction that was currently leaving her very annoyed.

Right about now, she could stand a change. Champ was not worth the trouble, or the cost of room and board.

Wynonna could see her sister daydreaming. “What are you thinking about kiddo?”

Waverly bristled, “Stop calling me that. I’m thinking about change, about the revolution. What would it mean?”

The older Earp drank directly from the bottle and let out a puff of air, “Pfft! Same uptight, rich shit tickets, different colored coats. Same taxes, paid to different arseholes. This George, that George, it’s all the same to me.”

Waverly considered that. She had never been to England or any of the other colonies. Dolls was fighting. Or at least, she thought that's what all the secret meetings were about. She was looking for something too, but not a war. _Not a revolution. She wanted a revelation_.

Maybe this declaration was a sign things were changing.

Waverly grabbed the paper back from her sister, reviewing the set of grievances and then looked seriously at her sister, “Do you think there’s any chance these guys can really set us free from King George? Or more specifically, his henchmen?”

As if on cue, Captain Robert Swain strode into the bar with a small entourage of redcoats slightly behind him.

Wynonna whispered, “Speak of the devil.”

Swain gestured for his lackeys to find a table in the corner and called to Wynonna to join him in a private conversation at the back of the bar.

He stroked his beard as he greeted the older sister, “Good morrow, Miss Earp.”

“Yeh, yeh. Enough with the small talk. Let’s talk turkey. Can we get our usual shipment at the end of the week?”

Swain leered at Wynonna and traced the lace edge of her frock along her cleavage as he spoke, “My sweet submissive subject, I’d be happy to deliver according to our usual arrangement, with a new excise fee in light of recent, shall we say, difficulties, at the port. This new call for Independence will be doubling the price you pay.”

It was all Wynonna could do not to gag as he pouted in her face while extorting her. But she masked her disgust and faked a convincing smile, “Your new price is a little too steep for a small time shop like ours. Captain Swain, for now, I’ll have to say no, but thank you very, very much.” In the back of her mind, Wynonna was thinking of this new declaration from the broadsheet and liking the idea of some independence.

Swain’s hand slid up, past Wynonna’s clavicle and suddenly grabbed her neck, “Are you saying the price of my rum is not a price you're willing to pay?" He clacked his teeth and seethed. "Remember, we made an arrangement. I hope you’re not getting any ideas about going elsewhere, Miss Earp. Because that would be a very bad idea. Constable Cryderman can not tolerate any law breaking.”

Wynonna could smell his breath and squinted back at him. 

He held his ground, "You'll be back."

He loosened the grip on her neck and pulled his hand up around either side of her face. “If I feel like it, I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love.” Before letting her go, he placed a wet kiss on her forehead and then walked away, swishing his long crimson coat in a grand gesture that made Wynonna’s skin crawl. She shook her neck fiercely, letting the gesture ripple down her figure to shake off the stench of the moment.

Wynonna walked back to the bar. She whispered to Waverly, “Maybe a change in governance is not such a bad idea.”

“Ya think.” Waverly joked.

The older Earp grabbed the bottle and headed out the back door, flashing her sister a farewell greeting and swishing her hips generously for all the bar to see.

In the back of the bar, Swain settled in with his lackeys. He called out for a round of ale. As Waverly started on the order, the door opened and in walked Nick. She stopped first at the doorway. Her hands slowly followed the curves of her three-pointed hat, as she surveyed the room. She bit her lips as she saw the magnetic barmaid pouring drinks.

Waverly must have felt Nicole’s glance from across the room. She turned up and saw Nicole wave. The redhead smiled right at her with _those dimples._ And then couldn’t, _for the life of her,_ turn away. The stein overflowed, spilling all over her hands and onto the front of her dress.

Nick swaggered over to the bar, offering an apology to the flustered woman behind the bar. “I’m sorry to distract you. The name’s Nick, Nick Haught. And you are…?”

“Waverly Earp.”

“Nice to meet you. Quite the pub you’ve got here. Seems like a popular place.”

Waverly grabbed a towel to sop up the mess. “It’s all in the smile and wave.”

What was it about this girl? Nicole could feel her heart pounding, but did her best to remain cool. She thought of Nathan’s advice and smiled. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Clearly, you’ve got your hands full. But I saw your stable. My friend needs a horse for the day and…” She pointed to the barn with her thumb trying to remember her train of thought as her eyes kept falling on the lovely cleavage a few feet away. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so _helpless._ She cleared her throat and regained her composure, “…and there doesn’t seem to be anyone out there to help us out.”

Waverly knew what the problem was, or more specifically _who_ the problem was, the shit-ticket of of a boy-man Champlain Hardy. She gritted her teeth, “Champlain…” The barmaid shook her head. He wasn't just a problem for the tavern and their stable business. He was her problem to deal with, personally and professionally. She turned to Nick and reached out a hand of reassurance. “Just a sec. Let me just deliver these drinks and then I’ll be right out.”

________

While Nathan was out on his secret mission, Nick found a place at the back of the Short Man Tavern to wait out the rest of the day. The pub had a stack of old broadsheets and bulletins that Nicole grabbed to get up to date on the latest in the colonies. As she read, she listened to the conversations all around her.

She nursed her ale for most of the morning and was happy to see Waverly come over mid-morning with an offer of bread and cheese. Waverly said, “I like to see a mind at work. Anything interesting in those old papers?”

Nicole set her chin on her hand and leaned on her elbow, “You tell me. What do you think?”

Waverly looked back at the bar. It was almost empty. She grabbed a chair across from the charming red head.

“Normally, I wouldn’t talk politics at work, but I’m an excellent judge of character, and you seem like a stand-up fellow, a patriot, perhaps?”

Nicole thought of Nathan’s passion for the cause. She loved action and being part of the team. The rebellion had given her a sense of purpose and identity she had never felt back in Salem. She looked into Waverly’s eye and spoke from the heart, “You could call me part-time patriot. Mostly, I’ve spent my years travelling up and down the coast, transporting rum and guns. It’s hard not to get entangled in our line of work.”

Waverly wasn’t sure what Nick meant, “A girl in every port?”

Nick reached out her hands to correct the misunderstanding, “No, no. That’s not what I meant. I was referring to political entanglements. There’s always someone at the dock, skimming off the surface, usually a Brit or a Frog. No one’s motives are as idealistic as they sound on paper.”

“So you’re a realist.”

“What about you Waverly Earp? Where do you stand?”

Why was this stranger so easy to talk to? Waverly felt free to speak her mind, “I started working at the tavern a few years back and then Shorty passed. Every since then, it’s me, Augusta and my sister trying to hold everything together. But lately, everything is changing.”

Just then a group of three walked into the bar. Waverly stood up to tend to them. Before she left she said, “It looks like you’re settled in for the long haul. Y’know, if you're stuck in town for long, we rent rooms.”

Tempting. “I’ll be back to night to meet my Captain. See you then.”

As she watched the barmaid go back to work, Nicole was feeling the pull of a normal life. In the last few months, the cat and mouse game against the British had been escalating. The stakes were higher than ever and the papers in front of her proved it. The tide of public opinion was turning. She had this sixth sense that Nathan’s involvement was about to get more serious. She had never been left out a meet-up before.

She scanned the room for anyone suspicious. She finished her food and then headed to the street to catch wind of any movements underground. She had a full day to herself and decided to take a long walk back to the port. Life along the road was the most telling one she knew. She counted troops and wagons along the way, with her thoughts drifting back to the young Earp more than she would like to admit. The woman had a point. Everything was moving so fast. She had not seen the road this busy, ever. She listened to conversations as she walked.

She paused under a tall Elm tree, fiddling with her bag as a decoy. In reality, she moved to be closer to a group of British soldiers resting there as well.

She heard one fellow say to the other, “ _Do you think they’ll fall for it?”_

The older man answered, _“People hear what they want to hear. Give it time and the news will spread. We make ourselves easy prey and catch the traitors like that. Keep talking up the shipment and the men on leave. Sound cocky, private. That should come naturally to a pretty boy like you.”_

The young man had one more question. He asked, “ _What about the real drop?”_

_“Fish, I told you Dorchester. Now scat!”_

Nicole thought about this and made a note of the soldiers’ regiment and flags for later reference. She leaned against the tree, pretending to take a nap, and watched the busy, bustling world go by. When the afternoon sun appeared, she headed back to the Short Man tavern for an early dinner, and hopefully Nathan’s return.

//

Waverly was not at the bar when Nicole returned. She was surprised to see an older woman with a stern expression, cleaning a dozen steins with a worn cloth.

Nick tried to hide her disappointment and decided, just for the heck of it, to ask, “Is Waverly around?”

“Who’s asking?” The woman barely turned from her work, glancing at Nick from the side, quickly taking in the androgynous figure from head to toe.

“Sorry, ma’am. I’m Nick Haught. A friend of mine has one of your horses for the day.”

The woman finally answered her question, “She’s in the barn. Help yourself.”

//

Waverly’s hair was collected in a scarf and her dress protected in a dingy apron as she shoved hay in the barn. She was sweating and breathing heavily when the redhead appeared, leaning in the doorway.

Waverly blew a strand of hair out of her face, “So, is that your signature move, Haught?”

Nicole was quick to flirt back, “Wouldn’t you like to know Waverly Earp? I came back early, hoping to run into you before we head out tonight.”

Waverly set the pitchfork down and leaned on it. “Well,” she said, “our stable boys is worthless, so I’m pretty busy right now.”

Nicole could feel that boom of her heart from their first meeting. She knew opportunities like these were few and far between. Like that fateful day when Nigel helped her flee Salem, she was not throwing away her shot. She said, “I’d be glad to help you, if you’d like. I’m pretty good with horses.”

“I thought you worked on a boat.”

Nicole corrected her, “A ship. I do, but I grew up on a farm.” Nicole went over to the pair of large horses resting in a neighboring bay. She touched their soft noses and gave them each a scratch on the chin.

Waverly rolled out a wooden wheelbarrow and grabbed a scoop for Nick. “You shovel and dinner’s on the house.”

Nicole grabbed the shovel with a smile. “Aye, aye captain.” She clicked her heels and went to work. As she began, she saw Waverly walk out of the barn into the sun. She had hoped they would have a chance to talk. She sighed heavily and focused her disappointment on the work at hand. She had cleared two bays when Waverly returned with two glasses.

Waverly said, “I hope you like lemonade.”

Nicole gladly took a glass. It was refreshing and her spirits were lifting.

Waverly eyed Nick as she drank her lemonade in unison. It did not pass her notice that they were both lingering in that glance.

Waverly set her glass on the top of an adjacent wall, “Once we finish this refreshment, I can help you finish up this half.” She gestured to the part of the barn and stables nearest the street. “And then, Augusta’s famous beef stew is waiting for us both.”

//

When Nathan returned, Nick and Waverly were finished with their stew and laughing over a few lagers. He had tied his horse out front and was surprised to see his right hand man relaxing while a war was going on. His fury melted as he approached and saw the light in Nick’s eyes. He knew that feeling and could begrudge his loyal friend a little pleasure.

Nick was so wrapped up in conversation; she missed her friend’s entry until he was a few feet away.

Nathan said, “Sorry to interrupt. Looks like you’re having an early supper.”

“Yes, its delicious.” Nicole pulled the chair next to her out so Nathan could join them. “Waverly, this is Captain Nathan Green of the Whisper. Captain, this is Waverly Earp.”

Nathan tipped his hat before setting in an empty chair at the table, “My pleasure Miss Earp.” He assessed his dinner companions with a quiet, but wide smile. “I’d love to have dinner but we cannot stay long. Nick and I have important deadlines to meet, deliveries to make.” Nathan knew this was not the news they wanted to hear. “But I do have a drop of good news. We’ll be back next week. In fact, I’m setting up a partnership locally and will need a good horse and a warm meal for the summer, off and on again.”

Nicole could feel her heart swell with happiness at the thought. She hoped Waverly shared her reaction. Moments later a hand under the table and a squeeze of her knee told her exactly what she wanted to know.

//

Over the course of the next few months, Waverly and Nick spent quite a few meals together. Nick had a routine that Nathan thoroughly approved of. She kept tabs on the road, taking careful notes when and where British troops were passing. Intelligence was passed onto to the locals in the rebellion. She kept an ear out for any kind of news. Mainly, she heard about this big shipment coming in. The loose lips reminded her of her first day, under the elm tree, and the rouse the redcoats were planning.

In the late afternoon, she and Waverly tended the stables. She got to know the family, over time. She appreciated the cynicism of Wynonna, but was a little nervous around Dolls. She had the sense he was on to her secret. To mask her peach fuzz cheek, she started to put honey on her sideburns and press clippings of her hair onto her cheeks.

Through Waverly, Nick learned about the local authorities black-market in rum and its impact on the tavern. Over the summer, their supplies were dwindling down the bottom of the barrel. Waverly and her family were at their wit’s end. All the while, Nick also had a sense that Wynonna and Dolls were working on a secret project. Their conversation would turn to whispers whenever she walked into the room.

In the stables, Waverly was impressed with Nicole’s gentle way with the horses. One day in late August, she said, “If you ever get tired of life on the open sea, there’s an opening here for a good stable boy. I’ve told Champ to skedaddle. I’m done putting up with him.”

Nicole answered gladly, “I’ll keep that in mind.” As she answered, Nicole thought about Nathan’s warnings. Her friend had tried to caution her against becoming too close with Waverly. He reminded her of the mob in Salem and their torches blazing. As much as his words made sense, the pull was so strong. She didn’t know how to say no to this feeling. She bit her lip and put her frustration into the work in front of her.

Moments later, Dolls and Wynonna entered the barn. Dolls asked Nick to leave the barn so he could speak with Waverly and Wynonna in private. She simply rolled her eyes and took a walk around the block. As she was turning a corner, she stopped dead in her tracks and took a few steps backward. She had spotted Captain Swain and a pair of men. She froze and listened carefully to their conversation.

Swain said, “ _Tonight’s the night I finally slit those traitors throats.”_

His friend laughed gleefully, _“The trap is set. Those greedy little bastards won’t be able to resist.”_

Nicole took in the words and considered the possibilities. She hadn’t warned the local leadership of the trap because the information she had too vague. It still was. What trap? Where? All she knew at that moment was when. Tonight.

That night as Nick and Waverly sat down for an early dinner, Waverly leaned in close. She whispered, “My sister and her boyfriend are trying to steal some rum tonight.”

Nicole was worried. She said, “Wait, where?”

Waverly was confused, “You know, the harbor. Apparently the lobsters are bringing a big shipment in while most of their crew is on leaving. You should have seen the look on Wynonna’s face, when she heard about the easy pickings.”

This was a red flag to Nicole who stood up looking for Nathan. “Waverly, they wouldn’t do any reckless would they? I need to talk to them first. When are they leaving?”

Waverly could see something was wrong. “They already left.”

Nicole wanted to leave right then. She went to the front to wait for Nathan. Luckily, it was only moments later when Nathan arrived; he was in a rush too. His horse was breathing heavily. Nicole grabbed the bridle and led the horse right into the stable.

Nathan was speaking quickly, with passion, “Everything's happening tonight, Haught. The locals will raid the port while everyone's on shore leave. Leadership is sending me and a crew down to Charleston as soon as possible. I’ll be adding a few men to the crew and heading out tonight at eight. They’re meeting me here in two hours."

As he spoke, Nicole was distracted. He was so busy getting out the words he hardly noticed. Nathan went on," In the meantime, we have a lot to do. Do you know where the Kitsons live?”

Nicole couldn’t look him in the eye. Her mind was one Dolls and Wynonna. She had a very bad feeling about this.

Nathan finally picked up on the signals. “Nick, what’s wrong?”

Everything was happening at once. She winced in concentration, wanting to get out the most important information first. “The Brits have set a trap and it sounds like the Colonists are headed straight for it. You have to stop the raid tonight. Can you make it back to the troops in time to stop them?"

Nathan nodded with sweat collecting on his brow, as he put together what was happening.

Nick nodded, "Good. In the meantime Captain, there’s something important I have to do. I might not be back to the ship by eight.”

“Nick, we _can not_  wait for you. The timing is critical. We’re leaving at eight come hell or high-water. And after what you just told me, maybe sooner”

Nicole grabbed her friend’s forearm for emphasis. “Leave without me if you have to.”

Nathan understood what was happening. He addressed his best friend by her given name, for the first time in years. He whispered, “Nicole, be careful. Dying is easy. Living is harder.”


	2. The Story of Tonight

Once they said their thinly veiled goodbyes, Nick had a fire lit within. She was determined to help out the Rebellion– two rebels in particular– if she could.

Her captain, Nathan, was off to the Kitsons place to prevent the rebel group from falling to Swain’s trap.

Nick saddled up a pony for herself, giving Waverly a re-assurance that everything would be okay.

It was hard to Waverly to fathom how everything could be "okay." She saw the dust of both riders fading into the distance, holding her hands tight to her chest, praying for their safe return.

Nick made good time on the back of strong young quarter horse. She knew a place near the harbor where she could leave the horse. Night was falling and an old man was lighting the street lamps along the harbor. She looked up and down the shoreline for signs of the shipment she figured Dolls and Wynonna were targeting.

It didn’t take her long to spot the frail figure of a slim British soldier, sinking into his guard post at the far end of the harbor. Nicole paused to look closer for signs of a hidden ambush. The lights in the buildings facing the harbor were all out.

She looked for movements in the shadows, both inside and out.

Before long, she saw the swaying hips of none other than Wynonna Earp in a bright red dress with black lace trim. Her lips were crimson in contrast to jacket of the soldier she was wooing which had faded years ago to a sullied pink, like a wet scab.

Around a nearby corner, Nick saw another figure that she assumed was Dolls.

She sighed deeply and rolled her eyes.

She knew what they were up to. Wynonna would distract the guard, by posing as a streetwalker and Dolls would raid the boat.

Wynonna leaned in close on her target, sugar talking him and stroking him up and down with a long pointed finger.

Nicole walked up behind her and interrupted, “Miss, I don’t know if this fella is having a hard time making up his mind or what, but you’re just what I’m looking for.”

Wynonna did her best to conceal her surprise, not recognizing Haught in the shadows and with this sudden machismo. The redcoat had no intention of sharing Wynonna’s attentions. With a thick cockney accent, he said, “I were talkin’ to the lady. If ye don’t mind.”

Nick stepped forward into the weak man’s personal space and said, “I do mind. Let’s let her speak her own mind.” She stepped in between Wynonna and the mark, turning to Wynonna and pulling her close by the waist. Despite Wynonna repeated signals to stop, Haught continued with her interruption.

Nick turned around her should to address the smaller man, “She’ll be back in jiffy. I’ve been at sea for too long. I _need_ to whet my whistle.”

The red coat shook his head and brushed them off. “Fuck you, ya fine fella.”

Nick pushed and pulled Wynonna into the nearest alleyway. Once they were safely out of view, Wynonna pushed Haught off her, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving your sorry ass.” Nick pointed her thumb back to the dock. “This here is a _major_ trap. And you and Dolls were about to walk into it head first.”

As Nick continued with the explanation, Dolls appeared around the corner. 

Wynonna was shaking her head and holding her hands in her fists. “We fuckin’ need that rum. We cannot run a tavern without booze.”

Dolls itched his nose and said to the side, “Laurens will be disappointed. I was hoping to get some munitions as well.”

Dolls then turned to Nick narrowing his eyes. “How do we know we can we trust you? Who’s to say your not turning us off the biggest catch of a lifetime?”

 _Oh brother._ Nick paused to think about that. She said, “Doesn’t this all just seem a little too easy? That big ship, spilling at the seams with barrels and boxes guarded by that frail leaf of a man?”

She peeked around the corner and pointed to two ships on the opposite side of the dock. See those ships sitting low in the water. “If you look closely, I swear there are at least fifty soldiers hiding in there, bayonets ready.” She stopped to watch them absorb the information.

Dolls half-whispered to Wynonna. "I promised Laurens that I would get those guns."

Just then Nick made a connection to the conversation she'd overheard under the Elm tree, “I think I might know where this shipment is really headed. I've overheard some rumors on the road. You guys know a way to Dorchester Point?”

Wynonna answered, “Ab-sa-fuckin-lutely.”

Dolls grimaced in embarrassment at the turn of phase.

Wynonna saw his reaction, “What?! I mean I know how to get there. What’s your problem Dolls?”

Dolls was honest with her, "A wild goose chase."

Nick shrugged, "Take a risk. It could be the best thing you ever did." She winked at Wynonna and then asked, “Where’s your rig? You got Bess and Alphie?”

Wynonna looked confused. “How’d you know?”

Nick answered, “Oh, I thought you knew. I’ve been helping Waverly in the stables all summer. She fired Champlain a ways back.” As she spoke, Nick could she Dolls trying to contain a smile. As usual, he seemed fully aware of what was going on.

Wynonna explained, “I don’t really do horses.”

Nick shrugged, “Oh, well okay then. You yahoos ready to raid a royal shipment?”

Dolls then looked at Nick square in the face, “Clearly, you know the difference between you ass and a warm rock. Haught, sorry I ever doubted you. Now, let’s get out of here and kick some British bootie. It’s time to join the revolution.” He tosses her a musket. “Are you in?”

“Like Flynn.”

//

The road to Dorchester Point was quiet and dark. Dolls and Wynonna rode a small wagon while Haught stayed back a bit on her horse, keeping an eye out. When they neared the point, she signaled that she would go ahead and assess the situation. In a few minutes, she was riding back and ready.

She recommended they tuck away the wagon and walk to the rendezvous point on the shore. Nick handed them each a bandana. As she did, she saw the look of confusion. She explained, “To hide your faces. Incognito.” She grabbed some rope from the back of the wagon and the musket from earlier.

The group followed the shoreline, far enough inland to stay out of view. Dolls spotted the lookout first and signaled get low.

They dropped to their bellies and shimmed up the bank to get a view of the drop. A lone rowboat made its way to the shore, at first barely visible as a black mark where the moon reflected off the waves.

As they waited, Wyn whispered to Nick, “What are your intentions towards my sister?”

Nick was a little surprised, “Honorable.” She stumbled a bit, “…and ambiguous.” She could tell she was not communicating effectively. Hell, she wasn’t exactly sure herself. “I mean, Waverly’s honor is safe in my company. That’s all.”

The group was quiet watching the boat make it’s slow progress to the shore.

Nick was not feeling like herself. She felt oddly uneasy in the silence. She usually enjoyed the quiet. To fill it she spoke, “I like talking with her. She’s nice.”

Inside, Nick was groaning. Nothing was coming out right.

She wished Waverly were there with them now. She felt like fish out of water in the middle of these two.

As long as they were asking, Dolls had important question as well, “And what about your family?”

Nick tried to shut that down right away, “Unimportant”

But Dolls had more, “And your prospects?”

Nick was not used to such personal questions. She deflected in the most honest way she could, “There’s a million things I haven’t done. But like Poor Richard says ’ _God helps them that help themselve_ s.”

Wynonna said, “I was always partial to ‘ _There cannot be good living where there is not good drinking_ ’.”

Dolls pointed to the rowboat. “Looks like he’s finally making for land. I say we wait until they’ve unloaded and then make our move."

Nick and Wynonna looked at each other dubiously and then back to Dolls.

Wynonna shook her head as she spoke, “Maybe not."

Nick picked up her thought, "Let's let the boat head out. I'd rather make a move once the odds are more in our favor.”

Wynonna clicked her tongue and tapped her index finger to her forehead. "Two of them, three of us. You're a real thinker Haught.”

Nick tried not to blush at the compliment. She had one more thing she wanted to say, “They’ll be no way the row man would know the shipment was intercepted.”

//

As the rowboat faded away into the horizon, the trio could hear the two men on shore trying to cooperate and carry the load inland to their rig. Neither seemed well suited to hard work and they quarreled like an old married couple.  The pair was distracted by a grassy sand dune that kept snagging the side of heavy barrel, when up from behind them came the three rebels, with their faces hidden behind the bandanas. In unison Dolls and Nick held the blunt ends of their muskets in the air and hit the two men firmly in the head. They were knocked out instantly. Nick pulled out the rope and gestured to tie them together. As they worked on the knots, Wynonna assessed the haul. There were a few large barrels, dozens of the small ones, boxes of gunpowder and shot and one long box of high quality rifles, good for snipers from a distance. “Not too shabby.”

As she spoke, Dolls put his fingers to his lips, “Shh…”

Together the three of them rolled the barrel to the waiting wagon. Nick asks, “Should we borrow their rig?”

Dolls loved the idea, “Great idea Haught. It’ll slow them down getting out of here and save us the time of going to get ours.”

In short order the team had the full load into the borrowed wagon. The single large horse was stubborn at the front of the wagon and the load heavy, but Nicole used her charms on the beast and got him headed in the right direction with a little prodding.

They found their own horses and the small wagon right where they’d left them. They worked together quickly as the night was getting colder to move everything another time. In the distance, Dolls could hear the sound of men’s voice, coming from the shore. Before heading off, Nicole quickly worked the buckles and the reins of the British men’s horse and set it off into the night with a firm slap on the flank. The horse neighed and set off with a half-hearted run that settled into a steady walk into a clearing in the trees. As she hopped onto her horse, she laughed, “That outta slow ‘em down a bit. You guys ready to go?”

Wynonna let out a whoop. “I think we’re gonna have some of good ole Ben Franklin’s good living tonight.”

Dolls gave the reins a vigorous thrust and called out a firm “Hey-yaw!”’They were off into the night on back roads, through farm fields, all the while taking the out-of-the way routes that only locals would know.

//

Captain Swain took his shiny black carriage along the main road to Dorchester Point. The road was dark and uneven. The deep muddy ruts of spring had hardened in the summer sun. Despite the grooves and bumps, he remained focused on making good time at the bequest of Lady Clootie. He had made a bargain with her and was beginning to regret it.

A cloud of dust billowed up behind him. Clootie had a special shipment coming in, one that could not be trusted in mainstream channels. Bobo was on his way to meet them and personally deliver the cargo back to the lady.

He had assured her that this covert drop-off would be an excellent channel for this barrel she cherished. It had become a usual spot for all of Robert's blackmarket trade. It had everything you would want in a secret spot. It was dark, off the beaten path and— once you left the private cove— had sight lines for miles.

She had pushed him to make a solemn promise. He thought of her words, “ _My sweet submissive subject. My loyal, royal subject.”_

Her power over him was unnerving. He had heard the men at camp call her a witch. At first he considered it Puritan superstition. In her presence, his _will_ was not his own. She had additional qualities he had not seen in anyone. It was not the singular, carnal effect of Robert was used to around certain women. Nor was it the persuasive power of educated women. It felt metaphysical and unstoppable.

Before he reached the rendezvous point, he saw the abandoned wagon. He whipped the horses.

This was a bad sign.

Failure was not an option. Just as Clootie had said, she was his submissive subject. He felt his heart fall in his chest at the thought of any err at the drop.

When he finally climbed the short rise at the dunes, Fish and Carl were still tied together, with dirty clothes stuck in their mouths.

Swain’s temper exploded and targeted the men. He kicked them while they were down. He called them stupid fools. All the while, he was imagining Clootie’s devilish grin turning against him. Robert pulled the wet rags from their mouths. His fury turned his words into a staccato drum beat, “Who did this?”

Carl spoke first, “Boss, their faces were covered. They snuck up, real quiet like and knocked us both out.”

Fish was looking for an excuse, “There must have been at least six of them.”

Swain stroked his beard, “How the hell did they know this drop was even happening.” He pointed to his lackeys. “You fools must have let the secret out.”

Both men shook their heads firmly in denial, “No. No way.”

Carl went even further. “Captain, I put it so far out of my mind, I almost forgot, till Fish here reminded me this morning.” He pushed against his friend for confirmation.

Fish obliged, “Yup, that’s right. He’d heard the boys talk so much about shore leave, he’d made plans with the brothers from York.”

Swain shook his head is disbelief. He had no idea what was in that barrel, nor why is it was so precious to Clootie. What he did know was that his neck was on the line.

He pulled at his collar; feeling suddenly like it was in a noose.

//

Dolls, Wynonna and Nick were cautiously quiet when they returned to the town. The foot falls of the horses on the cobbles at the center of town echoed in all directions.

Nick hopped off her steed and quietly led the team into the barn. She set to putting everything away, like a pro.

Wynonna counted the small barrels, half rum and half whiskey with great satisfaction.

Dolls hid the weapons in a locked stall at the back of the barn under some loose hay. Before long, Waverly was in the door and then suddenly giving everyone hugs.

Wynonna held a small barrel high in the air, “Let’s celebrate.”

Just then one of the larger barrels will in the back of the wagon started to jostle. From inside they heard a voice saying, “Help. I’m in here. Get me out.”

All four of them stared at each other with bulging eyes and then at the barrel. Nick was the first to move. She grabbed an iron and headed toward the noisy barrel. She jumped up in the back of the wagon, and pulled back a board forcefully.

Inside was a person, curled up like a ball. 

Underneath the narrow opening, he tilted his head to peer out with wide eyes. Nick quickly opened the full top of the barrel, board-by-board, careful not to scare the person inside. On closer inspection it was a boy, maybe fourteen. He was alive.

He was wrapped in a grey wool blanket with a leather satchel between his legs. He was shaking.

Nick stepped back to give him space and to soak in the surprise.

Of all the people in the stable at that moment, Dolls was the one who stepped forward and took charge. With surprising tenderness he pulled himself up into the bed of the wagon and made eye contact with the boy. He said, “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe now. We are not going to hurt you.”

Dolls then turned to Nick. “Haught, can make this guy a place to rest, in the stable boy’s quarters?”

He then addressed Waverly, “He needs some warm broth and cider. Can you bring a tray out to the barn?” Waverly was on it and out the door in a jiffy.

Lastly, he turned to Wynonna. “Can you fetch a wash basin and some fresh clothes? Feel free to grab anything of mine. Or maybe in Shorty’s old chest? It’s at the foot of my bed.”

As the team set off on their separate assignment, Dolls helped the boy out of the barrel, slowly. He was mindful of his stiff and sore muscles. Dolls used the blanket to avoid touching the boy, who was skittish like a wounded animal.

Dolls jumped down from the bed of the wagon and pulled a crate to the back so the boy could step down gingerly. They walked back to the small room at the back of the stables where Champlain had stayed. Nick had smoothed the bed and lit the lantern, to make it ready for the boy. When they walked in, she quietly excused herself and headed into the tavern to help Waverly.

Dolls plan came together quickly. He excused himself and encouraged the group to go ahead and start the celebration without him. He promised to join soon, after getting the boy settled.

//

Wynonna grabbed four steins by the handle and one of the small barrels from the rendezvous. There was a fire burning in the fireplace. Nick and Waverly pulled some chairs and table closer to the mantle.

At first the celebration was subdued as the shock of the boy subsided.

Waverly had been in the dark since Nick had sped off hours ago. As the story of Nick’s interruption at the docks unfolded, the three were laughing and smiling. Cups were refilled. Dolls join them just in time to tell the story of the rowboat and the sorry fellows they’d knocked out and tied up.

He gave them an update on the boy, “He’s sleeping. I say we give him space until he’s ready to talk.”

Wynonna seconded the suggestion, “Here, here!”

Nick rolled her eyes offering a toast of her own, “ _Raise a glass to the four of us.”_

Waverly joined in, “ _Raise a glass to freedom,”_

Dolls quickly poured himself a drink and joined in, _“Something they can never take away.”_

Wynonna clamored in, “Here, here, to tonight.”

//

In the morning, the group conferred about the boy over breakfast.

Dolls had taken him his breakfast in the stable and spoke with him briefly. He said he was an orphan and a blacksmith’s apprentice. He said, “The boy has no one.”

Wynonna asked, “Does he have a name?”

“Tyler Carson.”

Nick grabbed her chin in thoughtful consideration. She was concerned, based on what she had heard on the road during her reconnaissance, “I don’t think we should keep him here. It’s too public. It might not be safe.”

Waverly asked, “For him?”

Nick answered, “Maybe for him. _But also for us._ Someone captured that boy and transported him in a barrel. It’s weird.” She reached out to Waverly’s forearm, “I don’t want to risk you getting hurt.”

The consideration made Waverly blush and turn away. All of a sudden she was struck with a thought, “What if we take him out to the homestead, with Augusta and Curtis? They took in Wynonna and I when we had no one else. For a little while at least. It’s out of the way. No one ever goes on that road. It’s barely even visible, with two or three turns off the main track before you get to their road.”

Waverly could see Wynonna consider this. “I like it. Curtis is infirmed. Gus could use the help.” She looked at Dolls, “Is the boy any good for help?”

Dolls was unsure. He was thinking more about getting guns and powder out to the battalion. The day had already taken a few unexpected turns and he was behind schedule. He hated to be behind schedule.

Nick said, “Can we do it today? The sooner the better.”

Waverly answered, “Yes, absolutely.”

As her sister spoke, Wynonna could see Dolls saying no with his eyes. She said, “Hold on a sec, baby girl, Dolls has a delivery to make with the wagon and the buggy’s out of commission. I’m not sure how you’d get there.”

Nick interjected, “I can fix the buggy.”

Both women turned in unison, “You can?”

Nick demurred, “No promises. Let me just take a look.”

Wynonna went on, “It’s not just the rig I’m worried about. Without Dolls as a driver, I am not having my little sister ride off into the countryside unaccompanied. It’s not safe.”

Waverly started to object to the implication, but instead had another idea, “How about Nick drives? That way, if anything goes wrong with the rickety old buggy, we’ve got a mechanic right there.” Waverly slid over to slide her arm around Nick’s elbow, “And he can protect my honor.” She turned to face the redhead, “Right Nick.”

Nick’s mouth froze half-open, trying to figure out exactly how to respond, looking to one side and then the other. “I was just telling your sister, that your honor is safe with me.”

Waverly leaned her face over to Wynonna, “See. All good.” Waverly spun around a bit, collecting dishes and moving around the small room. Before exiting the door, she turned back quickly, “It’s a plan. Let’s leave at ten.”

After she left, Wynonna muttered under her breath, “She’s a planner. Well, I guess that leaves me here at the tavern.”

//

Later in the morning when the dishes were cleared, Nick went to help Waverly clean up at the water pump. While Waverly scrubbed dishes, Nick would pump the handle as needed to keep the water moving.

Waverly spoke first. “So Nick. I noticed you’re not on your ship.”

Nick smiled and dimples appeared, “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, so where did you sleep last night?”

“I found a place in the top of the barn. I hope you don’t mind.”

Waverly snapped a towel, “Of course I don’t mind. Although, it doesn’t sound very comfortable.”

Nick shrugged, “No, it wasn’t, but the rum helped quite a bit.” She went on. “When I went out to help your sister and Dolls, Nathan left. He had to go to Charleston very suddenly. I had to make a choice. I had to save Dolls an Wynonna, so I told him to go ahead without me.”

Waverly scrubbed the pot she while she considered the broader implications. Nick assisted with a rinse of water, timed in synch with Waverly holding the heavy pot over the spout. She looked at his hands and delicate features, unlike any of the boys she knew, yet setting her aflame. This act of bravery was making him all the more appealing to her. And the fact that he was, or could be, staying a little longer. By skipping the sudden departure of the Whisper, Nick’s sea legs might suddenly be moving to the land.

Nick could see Waverly’s mind at work. There was a connection there without words. It was something Nick had known before, but not in years and not with the same maturity. As Waverly made her own mental connections, Nick was working on a separate puzzle. Was there a way to make it work with Waverly? How far would it go before her true identity would be revealed? And was it fair to this woman, to keep her in the dark?

Together they carried the dishes back to the kitchen, setting them on the wide table at its center. Waverly grabbed a handful of spoons and then paused looking squarely at Nick, “I’ll have to check with my family, but if you’re interested, we still need a stable boy. You might need an extra job on the side for spending money, but we cover room and board.” She was speaking quickly, hoping to get it all out before Nick flashed those dimples and left her at a loss for words. “That is, if you’re interested in sticking around this little mud puddle for awhile.”

Nick was elated at the offer, but did her best to keep her cool. She remembered Nathan’s warning, but she didn’t want to _say no to this_. She answered, “Waverly, that would be great.” She paused, “I mean, if it’s okay with everyone else. I’d be glad to help.” Only then did Nick remember the buggy, “Speaking of help, I better go check on that buggy if we’re to leave at ten.”

//

Before long Waverly had packed sandwiches for the drive out to the homestead. Dolls had shared the plan with Tyler before he left on his own mission. Nick fixed the buggy and made a hiding place in the back for the boy to be comfortable.

The late summer air was humid. As part of her disguise, Nick preferred to keep her vest buttoned, but the heat was too much and she let loose a little, unbuttoning the top buttons of her collar and vest. Waverly’s hair was tucked under a bonnet, trying to shield her face from the beaming rays of the sun.

Waverly hummed a tune as they exited the last bit of town and the road turned to dust. As they went, Waverly asked Nick about the farm he grew up on. It had been a long time since Nicole had considered it, but on these back roads dotted with farmhouses, the memories were coming back to her. She said that her father had been a very religious man, but it just didn’t suit her.

Waverly was curious, “So you like a little bit of adventure?”

It was an interesting question and one that Nick had not thought of in those terms before. She had fallen into a life of adventure on the Whisper. She answered thoughtfully, “I didn’t exactly seek it out, but I’ve never said no to it either. What about you Waverly Earp? Are you a risk-taker? Or a people-pleaser?”

As Nick spoke, Waverly thought. Was she so transparent that this internal struggle could be spotted from the outside? She asked, “Am I so obviously torn?”

Nick reassured her, “No, not at all.’ Nick looked down at the bundle in the back of the buggy. She lowered her voice, “I only ask because I’ve found in my life, sometimes my own happiness means rocking the boat a little. That can be scary. I know it was for me.” Nick thought about her past. She had been frightened. Ultimately she had little choice. She had to leave or be burned at the stake like her mother before her. After she was caught with Jane, Nigel had smuggled Nicole off into the cellar and then made the connection with Nathan.

Waverly had never felt this close to anyone outside her family. This was different, though, because they were meeting as adults. She said, “I’ve always _wanted_ to do things that scare me.” Waverly shrugged, “But so far, I’ve only actually done what’s expected of me.” She flopped her hands on her lap, causing the horses to jump a bit.

Nick settled the horses down with a little, “Whoa girls.”

Waverly shook her head in embarrassment, “I guess the answer is yes to both. But hopefully more of a risk-taker in the future. Maybe in this new republic?”

Nicole listened thoughtfully to this answer, “So alright then, a little bit of both. And clearly an optimist.

As Nick spoke, Waverly thought to herself, _So is this what it feels like to match wits with someone at your level._

_//_

When they finally arrived at the homestead, Waverly had them go straight to the barn to keep Tyler under cover. Gus came out to meet them, looking somewhat surprised in an apron wiping her hands as she walked across the yard. Waverly led her back to the house to explain while Nick and Tyler stayed back in the barn. She noticed the boy’s bag, which he held as if his life depended on it. Her years on the docks with Nathan had honed her senses. She wanted to know more, but she felt pity for the boy. She let him be. While they waited, she walked around the barn to soak in the property. The apple trees reminded her of her childhood. She walked up to a ripe fruit and grabbed a few for their ride home.

Before long, they were back on the road. Waverly had explained the urgency to Gus who welcomed the boy with open arms. It was obvious immediately that they had a connection and that he would be well cared for.

The day was passing by quickly. Waverly  wanted to get back before the evening rush at the tavern. Gus had made them a picnic dinner with all of Waverly’s favorites from the farm. They even had a peach cobbler, wrapped in a dishtowel to share with everyone once they were back at the tavern. Gus also had meat pies. She made a big batch of these weekly for the tavern and would rather have Waverly take them than trust her neighbor to make the usual delivery.

The day and the drive were warm, but otherwise perfect for the pair. At one point, Waverly grabbed Nick’s arm and held her cheek against his shoulder. She said, “I’m glad you missed your ship.”

Nick thought to herself, Me too. Her heart was pounding and she dared not speak her feelings, yet.

//

It took very little persuasion to convince Wynonna that Nick should take over the stables. In no time, the small stable boy’s room at the back of the stable was all hers. She had no things to speak of. Waverly insisted Nick take Shorty's trunk of clothes. Nick was glad to see that was almost full.

When Waverly showed her the space, the brunette had offered to help tailor the clothes to suit her. As she said it, Waverly’s hand traced a line from Nick’s shoulder, down to her hand.

It made Nick nervous. She stammered,  “On the Whisper, I did all my own mending and sewing. I think I can manage if you don’t mind.”

Waverly frowned briefly, but didn’t really mind at all, “Whatever suits you best. And if you’d like a bath, I usually warm a pot of water after the tavern closes on Tuesday, so today’s your lucky day.”

Nicole could not recall the last time she had had a bath. The thought was delicious. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Waverly, I’d love that. This is perfect.” The room was small, but twice as big as her space on the ship and it had considerably more headroom, which Nick was especially glad of. She reached up with a stretch and could still barely reach ceiling. Amazing.

As she stretched, Waverly took in Nick’s full figure. She caught her breath, “Nick, you’re pretty special. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

Nick blushed, “Well, you’re probably right Waverly. Sometime I’d like to tell you a bit more about that. But for tonight, I think these tired bones need a long walk— to stretch after so much time in the buggy.”

//

Nicole’s long walk ending up taking her further than she had planned. She walked down to the large Elm tree and lingered-- hoping to hear any news that might shed some light on the boy. But the hour was already late and there were few travellers on the road— let alone anyone needing the shade to cool down.

As she walked, Nicole considered the dilemma of Waverly and the undeniable heat she was feeling, today more than ever.

This walk had two purposes: a little fact-finding, and a chance to cool her heels. It was all she could do not to grab that girl and kiss her right on the mouth. Every bone in her body was aching to climb on top of her.

Her life as Nick had been a double-edged sword. It had given her the freedom to escape the limitations society had created for her sex (the so-called fairer sex), but she never felt like a man. It had not been her decision, _merely a matter of convenience_. Nathan knew who she was and that was always a comfort. In their confidences, she was visible and could breathe easy. At the Earp tavern, she was still very much undercover. And she wasn’t sure how they would react to the truth. Or how to tell them.

She did not have an answer, but she could tell by the hour that she needed to seek shelter. She made the long walk back to the Short Man.

It was late, much later than she had planned. She headed straight for the stable boy’s quarters. There was a tub of bathwater still steaming and a plate of food on the table, with a pot turned over upside down to keep it warm. Waverly had left her an unlit candle and a note on a small piece of paper. All it said was, Stay well.

Nick lit the candle and quickly underdressed to take the bath before the water cooled. The warm water felt amazing. She washed the honey from her cheeks and dirt from under her nails. As she washed her figure, she was undeniably all woman. At Nathan’s suggestion she had taken to wearing a corset of sorts, to bind her breasts. She even had a roll of cotton pinned to the inside of her trousers to give the illusion of manhood. In this moment, she was striped of all those trappings.

What Nicole did not realize, was that Waverly had been watching for the light in the stable. When the barmaid saw the candle’s glow, she grabbed her robe and slowly made her way down through the tavern’s back door and through the yard. She stepped quietly, sneaking step-by-step.

Initially, Waverly was trying to avoid detection by her sister, but as she approached, her intention shifted to thoughts of the redhead. Instead of going in the stable through the wide doors, she snuck around the back to a peephole she and Wynonna had found to spy on Champlain. She carefully tiptoed around the bushes and knelt down to sneak a look at her crush.

At first, she only saw a chair draped with clothes. She drew in a deep breath at the gravity of what she was doing and then angled herself closer in to get a better view.

The first thing she saw was Nicole’s silky back. Her skin was clear and pale, like porcelain. Waverly saw the curve of her hips. The shock caused her to loose her footing temporary and almost fall over. Luckily, the accident was silent. Waverly put her hand to her chest in shock.

She knew Nick was special. There was something different about his hands, his delicate features, even his feminine laugh. She was drawn to these details.

Her hands.

Her lips.

Her laugh.

She was surprised even more than this revelation had not dampened her enthusiasm for the redhead. She felt a warmth descend between her legs that was undeniable. Her curiosity was aflame, _every part aflame._

Waverly went back to the peephole for a better look. Nick stretched out her leg, from the narrow washbasin and rubbed a washcloth the full length of her leg— from the tip of her toes and down to her thighs. The movement of Nick’s hand gliding down her leg made Waverly take a big gulp. She could not pull her eyes away. Her eyes swelled as the motion was repeated a few more times and then again on her second long, luscious leg.

The night air was cold, but all Waverly could feel was a sudden and rising heat. She moved slightly to get more comfortable in her vantage point.

Nicole reached to wash her back and at that moment Waverly caught sight of the side of her breast, swelling at the edge of her gorgeous silhouette. Waverly saw her ribs and the curve of her waist. Waverly’s heart was pounding deep in her chest. She could feel her breath quicken. _She was down for the count._

Waverly didn’t know where this was headed. As she stayed glued to the peephole, she considered their conversation from earlier today. She had never imagined this would be the adventure Nick was talking about. She wanted to know more. And more.

So much more.

 


	3. Wait For It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter centers the romance, doing my best to hit a few canon-inspired highlights with an AU twist and a Wayhaught end game.
> 
> There's a little action in there as well.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy.

//

The tavern had an early breakfast porridge. As usual Waverly was up before dawn, getting it ready. Nicole heard the sound of Waverly Earp singing to herself-- in and out of the yard, back and forth from the water pump to the kitchen. There were roosters crowing in the corners of town and birds chirping.

After a couple of hours of staring at the ceiling Nick was happy to have the day officially start. She popped out of bed, strolled into the yard and tipped her hat to the young lady, “Good morning, Waverly.”

Waverly’s heart skipped a beat and she almost spilled her pitcher of water, “Oh, um, hullo. Good morning.” Her eyes followed Nick’s frame from the top of her three-pointed hat all the way down to her shoes, noting the curves along the way.

Nicole grabbed the pump handle to offer a hand with Waverly's work. She said, “It feels great to start the day after a good meal and a warm bath. Thanks so much for everything you did last night.”

Waverly grabbed her braid to hide her flushed cheeks. “Well. Uh” She rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand and coughed lightly, trying to piece together a sentence. “It's my pleasure.  Thanks for helping out with the stables.”

The redhead just barely reined in the smile that came rushing to her face. “The bunk, the clothes, everything, it's perfect.” Nicole had not imagined she would feel at home quickly. It may have been the warm bed in solid ground or Gus’ peach cobbler. But deep down, she knew it had a lot to do with the woman standing in front of her.

Waverly shrugged and said, “It’s no Sistine chapel, Haught. It's just a tavern stable.”  As she spoke she thought about those long legs in the candlelight. She straightened up to focus on the current conversation.

The redhead paused, waiting for eye contact with Waverly. She said, “I've been _so_ lucky in life and it's taken me in some unexpected directions. First Nathan got me out of a tight situation and taught me… well, so much. And now here. I never imagined I'd have such good fortune. So I'll do whatever I can to help you guys out, whenever you need me.” With that thought in mind, she helped Waverly lift the kettle out of the way to make room for a second large pot.

Waverly smiled back. She said, “Well-- we're glad to have you. I've heard folks at the bar say _they never knew their lives would have led them to one point or another._ But I've _always_ thought I would be exactly where I am today.”

Nicole was interested in that thought, “Hmm. Waverly Earp, secret weapon of the rebel forces, barmaid extraordinaire and maker of a mean pot of porridge. You seem like you could be destined for more. You never know…I never would have ever guessed I'd end up here, caught up in a _revolution_.” Her last word was a rye whisper that made Waverly smile.

Waverly thought. _Was this her chance?_ She asked, “Where did you think you'd end up?”

Nick stopped pumping water just in time, as the pot was about to overflow. She leaned against the cold metal and thought about the question. “Oh I don't know… When I was younger I didn't really fit in with my family, or my church. Hell, the whole town. Luckily, I had my older brother Nigel.” She looked out, across the yard, captivated by the memory.

“I guess I figured he and I would take over the apple farm.  I had a _keen_ interest in making cider— even though the reverend said it was an abomination, an invitation to the devil.” The thought of the cider made her consider the softness of Waverly's lips. Her memories of Jane fueled her daydream of Waverly, the softness of her cheeks and the smell of her skin in the morning.

Waverly could feel Nick’s eyes on her lips. She teased, “Must be that red hair. Did anyone ever tell you that you were born bad?”

Nick wrinkled her nose and shook her head, "My father thought we were all  _born in sin._ And he may have said more than once that I was the most sinful child he;d ever known." She shrugged and smiled back soaking in Waverly's hazel eyes, "I've always had a rebellious streak. Born bad is just scratching the surface when you're talking about Puritans Waverly."

“They've probably called me much worse than that behind closed doors."  _Nick knew for certain they had. She could still recall the flaming torches in her mind's eye._

Nick went on with a sigh, "Who cares how what people say? At the time, my brother and I proudly called ourselves black sheep.  But I'm not even part of the flock now. _And_ I've come to accept it's not so bad being _born bad.”_ She could feel her confidence swelling as the smaller woman enjoyed the playful bravado. She paused for emphasis, putting her hands on her hips.

Waverly corrected her, “Clearly, you're not _all_ bad.”

“I do alright.” Nick offered to help Waverly carry the large pot back to the tavern.

“Do you how many times I made this same walk with Champ? Not once did he pump the water or carry a thing. He'd just lean there and look pretty.”  In her mind Waverly filled in the rest of the thought: _but not half as pretty as you Haught._

They walked the short distance to the tavern door, exchanging small glances, both feeling a little shy.

As they entered the kitchen Waverly pointed where the pot of water was needed. Nick took her direction without a second thought. She set the handle down on the hook by the fireplace and pushed it into the heat. She turned back to and spoke, “So Miss Waverly Earp, you're where you thought you'd be. Does that mean you're where you _want_ to be?”

Waverly wasn't sure where she wanted to be. Day by day, she was on the path set out for her. _What was there to question?_ _Yet, here was Haught asking her where she wanted to be? What did she want, anyway?_ She didn't know how to answer this deep question and finally said, “I'll have to think about that one.”  She looked out to the kitchen, reaching out to be grounded by something more tangible, something to bring her back down to reality and out of her head.

Waverly saw the basket of sewing supplies by the door. “In the meantime, I have some needles and thread for you.”  She handed Nick the basket.

Their fingers touched and Waverly felt her heart skip a beat. There was that feeling again, _helpless._

The redhead paused feeling a rush of blood to her cheeks. “Thanks so much. I can't wait to expand my wardrobe.”

Waverly said, “Expand? Seems like you’re gonna need to take in Shorty’s stuff to fit your slim figure.” There was Waverly laughing again, despite herself. She said, “If you need a hand, you know where to find me. I’m right here and glad to help” Waverly couldn't believe what she was saying. _She was definitely flirting with the new stable boy? Girl? Whatever._ She stopped herself from letting her imagination get the best of her _._ She deliberately looked down and busied herself with breakfast fixings. _She wanted to grab Nick’s hand and pull her into the barn. She wanted to continue their conversation or whatever. She wanted to solve the riddle of Nick Haught._ But right at that moment, the sudden momentum scared her a little too much. _She wanted the butterflies in her gut to take a break._ The tug-of-war in her mind made her move with stops and starts. She stepped back and focused on what she knew how to do.  She distracted herself by stirring the porridge and ringing the breakfast bell for the tavern’s overnighters.

Nick tapped the handle of the basket, picked it up and started to walk out. She stopped in the door with one hand on the doorframe, “When things settle down, I wanted to talk with you about something else. Will you have time later?”

Waverly answered, “Okay. Sure. I'll come by the barn when it quiets down.”

Nick reached across the table and grabbed a slice of bread. Before heading out, she said, “It’s a plan.” She waved goodbye with a wink and then was gone.

Waverly took a deep breath and sighed. She heard the boarders headed downstairs, and smoothed her apron with a smile. She went to the shelf lined with bowls. She took a stack and rounded up the spoons, laying them out as usual. There were lots of _good mornings_ and small talk to pass the time.

////

Nicole slowed her movements in thoughtful consideration as she made her way to the water pump for a fresh drink of water. _The attraction to Waverly was undeniable._ Nicole was feeling brazen. A few reckless thoughts had popped into her head. She even winked at Waverly. Winked. _How did she have the courage to pull that off?_

She could hear Nate and Nigel in her head, cautioning her, telling her to slow down. At the same time, this thing with Waverly was different. It was bigger than anything she'd ever felt before and she had a feeling it was mutual. _One day at a time. Slow down haught shot._

The cool water and the morning air helped focus Nicole's thoughts for the day. She remembered the boy in the barrel.

This thing with Waverly could wait.

She had a few more urgent items to address. There was a weakness in their actions at Dorchester point and afterwards. She had to find a way to talk to the team. She was new and needed to build their trust. At the same time, she wanted them to change tactics immediately and go undercover with tricks she'd learned at the harbor.

She went to the stables to see to the horses and start her new day. All the while, her energy was boosted by the thrill of fighting with the rebellion. She loved sneaking up on the redcoats and knocking them out. She wanted to get back in the action. If only Wynonna and Dolls would let her in.

She remembered last night and her conversation with Dolls.

_Dolls had returned in the wee hours of the morning with two very tired horses. He was moving slowly and quietly, but still managed to wake up the new stable boy. Nicole was curious. She could lay low rather than intrude. But she wanted to be helpful._

_She pulled on her clothes and peeked out. Dolls was putting things away when Nicole moved closer, “Can I help?”_

_Dolls smiled, “From the looks of things, stable boy is your new job, Haught.  Let's get these poor girls settled in for the night. After that drive they're gonna need a little rest and some extra time water.”_

_Nicole helped Dolls slide the trace out of the sleeve and push the wagon into its bay. While the two undid buckles and knots, they chatted._

_Nicole asked, “Have you lived here long?”_

_Dolls looked at her suspiciously, “What’s long?”_

_Luckily there were knots to be untied, and Nick easily distracted herself with the work at hand. In the low light of the lanterns, their shadows danced against the wall like giants. Nick shrugged, “More than a year?”_

_Dolls answered efficiently, “Just under. It’s been a good fit for me. The Earps are good people.”_

_“Glad to hear it.” Nicole answered with an easy smile. “I did already have that impression.”_

_Dolls nodded and returned the smile. “I don’t think I ever said thank you for saving our hides the other night.” He gave her a gentle rib._

_She laughed, “Yeah, I’m good people too.”_

_Dolls hung the collar on the wall as Nick gentle stepped the horses over the trace. Dolls called out to her, “A good man can be hard to find.” He waited and let the sentence hang in the air with some ambiguity. As he waited, he brought the second horse into the neighboring stall and craned his neck to make eye contact with the red head. His eyes held her gaze for a minute, asking the question— opening the door for her to say more._

_Nick caught the look and could feel her heart racing. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed trying to gather the wherewithal to answer. After a big gulp she managed to get out the words, “A good friend even harder.”_

_Dolls peered around the corner, “Don’t I know it. Don’t I know it.” As he spoke, he slapped the gloves he was carrying against his thigh with a snap._

_The horses were glad to be back to their stalls. The humans seemed equally relieved to be calling it a night. As Nick walked with Dolls she asked, “Those horses look pretty beat. How far’d you’d go anyway?”_

_He rubbed his nose and answered quickly, “That information is on a need to know basis. Haught, you seem like someone who would understand the importance of confidentiality.”_

_Nicole bristled and took a quick breath through her nose with her lips pursed to quell her temper, “My bad. You're right about that sir. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just thinking of the horses.” She gave the gray mare a look, “These guys are my top priority for awhile.”_

_Dolls said a polite goodnight before heading up to the tavern._

_As he walked away, Nick noted Dolls’ clean black coat and matching hat. She looked back at the distinct lines of the wagon, with the rails painted black. They’d used the same rig when they were out at the Dorchester Point. As Nicole pieced together the scene, she saw a weakness in their tactics. They were too conspicuous from place to place. Their wagon and drive would stand out from the working rigs that dominated the roads. If anyone had spotted them and described their wagon, they were sitting ducks for the redcoats. She was new to this place and knew Dolls would be reluctant to hear her challenge anything they were doing. As much as she felt she’d proven herself in the past few days, she remembered his hesitancy at the docks._

_Nick spent some time brushing out the horses to help them cool down- and to help cool her head._  

Eventually the redhead went back to bed, but she was unable to rest. She was worried about getting caught-- not caught as Nicole-- caught by the Brits and tortured to death.  She had heard horrible stories. Getting tarred and feathered sounds funny. In reality, the tar burned and stuck to the skin.

She thought about the time she'd spent on the road over the summer. She was sure she wasn't the only one keeping an eye on how things came and went on the colonial roads. This was not a game. There was no mercy in this war and no need for unnecessary risks.

Dolls might not trust her yet, but she knew she wanted to keep _everyone_ safe here at The Short Man. She was back on land and could feel the memories coming back to her.

Nicole remembered her frightened escape from Salem and her brother Nigel. He’d risked everything and trusted Nathan to rescue his sister.

Her innocence had blinded her. Her brother’s confidence in Nathan had given her peace of mind that only a sixteen-year-old girl could have. She might not have rested so easily had she known what kind of new life she was headed for. Nathan protected her and hid her secret well.

It was weeks later before Nicole was able to see him for the savior he'd been. All through her youth, she thought she was a rebel. Without realizing it, she’d actually expected to be taken care of.

Luckily she was.

In retrospect, she wondered now how she'd been able to sleep at all that first week, with every that had happened. Her innocence and inexperience with the world had been a set of blinders, letting her dive into the unknown with any fear or questions. She didn't realize then what a change she was in for.

Over time she saw the rarity of her rescue and her bond with Nathan. She had thought of him like a brother and wished he were there right now to offer advice and comfort. For the first time in her life, she really felt like she was on her own. Her fate was in her own hands now.

////

All morning Waverly settled into her work routine full of vigor. She was not fully prepared to experience the early morning run in with Nick. Goddamnit, the fingers on the basket gave her a chill up her spine. _Where could that be headed?_ She was overwhelmed by the onslaught of feelings rushing through her- the confusion and curiosity sending a bugle calls to her brains and her gut.

The tavern was busier than it had ever been. Supplies were getter harder to come by. Somehow she would have to find a way to fill the gap.

She counted the barrels of rum and whiskey and looked in the back at the cider and ale casks, slowly working down to dregs. Ever since the call for independence, supplies were dwindling. Soldiers and rebels both were gathering at the coasts and would hit the tavern like a tidal wave at unexpected moments. Gradually, the redcoats numbers seemed to be dwindling.

They had not seen Captain Robert Swain in weeks— not since the threats he’d given back in July.

Waverly knew they were drinking stolen booze. She loved that. She narrowed her eyes in a devious grin at the thought of sticking it to the men who’d made Shorty’s life so miserable.

She dried the dishes and lined them on the back counter with a smile. She liked to see the tide turning.  They might be free of the British some day, maybe some day soon.

After the long talk at the fireplace the night before last, Waverly could see Wynonna’s affection for the American rebellion growing as well.

Her sister’s discrete affection for the freeman Xavier Dolls seemed safer in a future with leaders calling for the abolition of slavery-- and in a few small corners, the vote for women too. Her sister’s cynicism masked how much she cared about these political concerns— and the implications they might have for her life. _If she didn’t care, then she was unbreakable. To show an ounce of caution would give the powers that be an authority Wynonna would not allow. She did not need anyone to give her freedom._ Just as Dolls himself had articulated. He didn’t need a white man to make him free. _Wynonna was already independent, whether the red coats saw it or not._

Waverly set her work aside when she heard the call of the town crier announcing a new broadsheet. She went to her cash box and grabbed the coins needed to get the morning news.

As she walked back to the tavern, paper in hand, she caught of glimpse of Haught in the barn. Damn. The morning conversation at the water pump had knocked her for a loop. As much as she thought she was on top of things, a face-to-face conversation had been disorienting. Last night’s revelation had been illuminating. Suddenly, she knew the truth of Nick’s identity. The night before, the truth had kept her up. At first it was exciting and it felt so right. _How could she_ _not_ _have seen it sooner?_ As the night wore on, her natural planning instinct kept hitting walls. There was no clear path forward. A few minutes of conversation at the water pump made that point even clearer.

Knowing the Nick was a woman was only one piece of the puzzle. She realized she was only scratching the surface. The ambiguity of the situation was turning her stomach upside down.

Still, she paused just out of sight. Nick had asked her to come by for a talk, but she wasn't ready yet and told herself she had better read the news before socializing. She looked down at the broadsheet in her hands. She told herself, it was very important to stay up to date.

In the tavern, at the counter Waverly read and re-read the news to distract herself from Nick. The same uncertainty about Nick loomed for the country. There was no clarity on the horizon for the future of this so-called new country. Young men were fighting and dying.

Once the last of the boarders finished their breakfast, Wynonna and Dolls came downstairs. Waverly pulled out the leftover cobbler and a few spoons. She said, “Look who the cat drag in.”

Wynonna snarled right back, “I've never been a morning person.” The three sat around the kitchen table and shared the dessert as a late breakfast.

Waverly asked Dolls, “What time did you get back last night?”

Dolls answered between bites, “Late.” The guns and powder were where they needed to be. Mission accomplished. He smiled in satisfaction and took a big swig of cider. He asked about their delivery to the homestead.  “What about you and Haught, everything safe and sound at the farm?”

Dolls was curious what Waverly had to say. It was clear to Xavier that the androgynous redhead wanted to be part of their team. Last night he heard her called him sir. Hell, she'd gotten out of bed in the middle of the night to give him a hand. Champ would never have done that. And then he heard his own voice in his head. He couldn't trust her until he knew why she pretending to be someone she was not. She’d asked where he had been and we wasn’t about to share that information.

Waverly answered without looking up from the cobbler, “Yep.  All settled.”

Wynonna knew something was up with her sister. She was never so quiet. Wynonna teased her, “Care to elaborate Miss Earp?”

“Nope.”

Wynonna looked at Dolls and then back at her sister, letting a slice of peach rest in midair. She could read her sister's reluctance like an open book.  “Sounds to me like someone has a crush.”

Waverly refused to even acknowledge the comment, sliding out of her seat and turning a 180 to get something to drink.

Wynonna continued, “Don't get you hopes up with that one Baby Girl. Seems to me to be a little light in the loafers, if you get my drift.”  She elbowed Dolls looking for back up.

He looked back stone-faced.

Wynonna defended her position. “What? You’ve seen him. Come on, Dolls. Back me up! Waverly said he wanted to tailor his own clothes. _You know what they say about a man who’s good with a needle?”_

Waverly glared at her sister.

Wynonna answered her own question with a deflated tone that slowed to a snail’s pace by the end of her sentence, “They enjoy the company of other men who are good with needles.”  Wynonna could see this train of thought was falling flat and tried to rescue it with a little faux sword fight with her index fingers. Dolls and Waverly both rolled their eyes.

Waverly grabbed her sister's hands and pushed them down, “Maybe you should mind your own business. People in glass houses…” Waverly grabbed a towel, wiping down the tabletop. “When you three came back from the point, you were thick as thieves. I thought we were all good. Why be so hard on Haught!”

Dolls spoke up to defend Wynonna, “Maybe your sister has a point Waverly. We don't know much about our new stable boy. I can ask around.”

Wynonna asked, “What about her Captain? Nathan. He’s a stand up guy right?”

Dolls had to concede the point. He nodded reluctantly. “Nathan seems like a good man, but we haven't worked together directly. We're on parallel tracks at the edge of the fight.”  He wiped his mouth and stood up. “Haught was always pretty quiet. Nathan uses the redhead for reconnaissance and observations.”

Waverly interjected, “Don’t forget, you two had your asses saved by that info. And ended up with an even better lead, snagging some pretty great stuff.”  She patted the top of a barrel of whiskey on the table next to her. “So let's give Haught a chance.”

Wynonna cooed, “Oh, a chance for the fair-skinned ginger who’s got my little sis under his spell.” She swung her hips against her sister’s and put an arm around her in a gentle hug. “I agree.  Dolls, lighten up.”

Waverly blushed and pushed her sister away. _If she only knew the half of it._

___________________

Waverly couldn’t find any excuses not to go check in with Nick. She took a deep breath to steel her nerves and removed her apron before heading out to the stable. _You can do this, Waverly._

When she walked into the barn, Nick was nowhere to be seen. The barn was as clean as she’d ever seen it. She listened carefully and heard a sound behind the wagon. Nick had slid the sides of the wagon off and had collected spare wood, piecing together another set of sides.

The tavern wagon had black sideboards and polished hardware. The seat had a long cushion made of green wool. It was not entirely unique in and of itself. When paired with the gray mares at the front and Dolls in the driver's seat in his black wool coat and hat, the vehicle was one of a kind. Nicole had gathered together scraps of wood, hoping to fashion a second and if possible third look for the wagon. She'd set aside some of Shorty's shabby older clothes. The goal was to blend in with the crowd, from stem to stern. It was a trick she'd seen down at docks in numerous permutations. And something Nathan had taught he to look out for. She made her choice of materials based on the most common wagons and drivers she'd seen on the road. The goal was to blend in, a role she knew well.  When Waverly came in, she had just found enough boards for both sides.

The redhead was deep in concentration when Waverly peeked around the corner. “Hey.” The smaller woman waved.

“Oh hey.” Nick stood up “I’m glad you’re here. Perfect timing. Can we talk?”

Waverly braced herself, “Woo, definitely. We're overdue. Sorry for not coming sooner.”

Nicole said, “It's okay. No need to apologize.”

Waverly smiled back, not sure what to say next.

Nick wiped her hands clean and set the rag down before speaking. She began. “I've been thinking about this a lot. And it's keeping me up at night.”

Waverly had been holding her breath. She finally relaxed enough to exhale. She said, “So I'm not the only one.”

Nick was surprised to hear this. She said, “We can't go on like this. It's not safe.” Waverly tried to hide her disappointment as Nick went on, “I'm worried we're sitting ducks. If we keep this up, we're gonna get caught and end up tarred and feathered.”

The words struck a chord and Waverly reached out both hands to Nick touching the back of the redhead’s hand. “You're probably right. But…”

Nicole froze in her tracks and swallowed hard as their faces inched closer together. She thought about her life. Like she just said, it could be over any instant. She knew moments like this were rare.

Waverly thought about the news of the day, the boy in the barrel, Dolls, Nick and Wynonna stealing British guns and whiskey. Everyone else around her was making their mark. Waverly thought to herself _I am not throwing away my shot_. She spoke, “It seems like everything is happening at once, but when I'm with you things slow down just enough.” She brought Nick's hand to her chest. Waverly asked, “Can you feel that?”

The redhead could feel every beat of her own heart in her throat and the trembling heart beat of Waverly Earp.

Waverly whispered, “I can be discreet.” She lifted her face toward the redhead, anchoring her advances with both hands holding onto Nick’s forearms. Her heart was pounding in anticipation.

Nicole stepped back suddenly. She couldn't go down this path with Waverly without telling her who she really was. Despite herself Nicole said, “Waverly, I think we're talking about different things.” She could see the girl curl back in embarrassment. She reached out to touch her shoulder, “I was talking about the wagon. We need to figure out a disguise for the rig. And maybe the horses too.”

Waverly said, “I'm so embarrassed. I thought… “

Before Waverly could finish, she heard the stable door slide open and Dolls shout out, “Anybody in here?”

Waverly stepped back suddenly, her ears ringing. Nicole tried to catch her eyes to apologize, but she could tell now was not the time.

Dolls heard their movements and was there in short order. He nodded a greeted of sorts, “Nnn..”

Waverly stepped further away from Nick to address Dolls. She said, “Nick here has some ideas about the rig.” She turned to Nicole, but failed to make any eye contact, “What did you say, a disguise? Something about sitting ducks.”

Dolls was keenly interested. He said, “Tell me more.”

Waverly excused herself, “I’ll leave you to it.” She walked out, tucking her hair behind her ear and shaking her head as she went.

Nick was frustrated but quickly composed herself and presented her plan to Dolls. He was on-board immediately. The two fell into a hushed conversation and went to work immediately on building the additional set of rails.

//

That night the tavern was rowdy, with groups of farmers and merchants mingling. Everyone had gossip to share— about the movements of troops and arms, the best places to get flour or seed. The stakes were high and the barrels of booze were welcome additions to the mix. The town was at the crossroads of the revolution. Luckily there was enough rum and whiskey to keep the crowds happy.

In the middle of it all, Waverly and Wynonna ran the bar like clockwork. A couple of local boys played fiddle at the tavern. In the back room, Nick made stencils to change the labels on all the barrels. Nick knew from working the docks with Nate that all the barrels were marked. The ones from Dorchester had a simple PN. Nick cleverly laid a stencil on top, disguising the old label with a few new letters.

The flurry continued through the weekend, giving Waverly plenty of excuses to avoid Nick. There's always something else to do.

For her part, Nick was busy on her own project. In addition to minding the stables and a steady stream of day rentals, she spent every free minute on the disguise for the wagon. Dolls had a mission planned for Monday and Nicole was determined to get everything set for two full changes of sideboards and overcoats to keep him under cover. Out of the corner of her eyes, she would see Waverly, busily crossing the yard, serving trays of drinks, carrying things here and here. She told herself _If there's a reason I'm still alive then I'm willin' to wait for it._

_//_

With everything else going on it was easy to forget about the boy in barrel.

At the homestead, the boy named Tyler ate and drank and slept till he felt complete enough to speak. Gus was happy to have him. Life at the farm gave him work for his hands that gave him a place of value.

His dark eyes would turn quickly at sudden noises. Gus gave him warm milk at night to help him sleep. Wherever he went, he carried his satchel over one shoulder. He kept it tucked under his pillow at night.

At the docks, Captain Swain was making life a living hell for regular folks.

Without her daily patrols, Nick was out of the loop. She didn’t hear that he had searched every ship in the harbor. Swain’s men could not describe their attackers. He didn't have a clue and began by throwing threats around like confetti. After a throwing punches and drawing bloods from informants, he still had nothing. The next step was obvious. He widened his search inland.

Unfortunately for him, there was a war going on.

His command required certain jobs to be done. He figured this gave him a reasonable excuse when going to Clootie. She wanted this immediately, but there was work to do, superiors to report to. Beside that, chaos was building. Things were lost. The colonial rebels were unhanded and new the lay of the land.

But Constance Clootie was not persuaded by reason.

When she heard the barrel had been lost, her rage exploded with spit and howling rage.

It made Swain uneasy. He promised her that it was just the chaos of the war.

She told him to hurry up or pay the price. She must have that barrel. The clock was ticking.

When she spoke, her eyes showed Swain what it looked like when a person was unhinged. She would do anything. He had heard stories and seems her so devilish things. Her threats carried weight.

By morning, Swain was desperate. He went to her empty-handed and she finally told him that the barrel contained a boy.

A boy. Swain paused. A boy could not live forever locked up like that.

With this new information, Swain’s search became more fevered. He spread out as quickly as he could to the territories in his control. He used whatever means necessary to get closer to his mark.

//

For the Short Man Tavern, Monday morning was the time most guests headed back to the port or inland. Bills were settled and piles of laundry and dishes stacked up in every corner.

In the stables, Nick said farewell to Dolls, careful not to ask anything about where he was headed, but still glad to be of assistance. His departure lifted a weight off her shoulders. She felt like she had done what she could to help keep them safe.

Nick’s priorities had a strong hold of her, almost religious. First things first. Nathan would tease her about it, as a puritan quality, but he also let her know it was something he admired in her. It was a big reason why she held his trust. She could keep her eye on the prize, even when things got complicated. She hadn’t heard any word from the captain, but it had been less than a week since his sudden departure.

She considered a walk on the road to catch up on the news of the day, but decided to check on her favorite Earp first. Once one thing was finished, there was another waiting. In all honesty, Waverly Earp had occupied Nick's thoughts throughout the weekend. She just tapped them down with some good old-fashioned denial.

Once she decided to face the music and find the charming pixie, Nick was not at all surprised to find Waverly hard at work in the tavern kitchen. Nick came in cautiously, “Anything I can do to help?”

Waverly barely looked up from her work. “No. All good here.” She was a little angry and a little hurt. All her feelings came through in her voice. She had spent the whole weekend replaying their misunderstandings in her mind. Work kept her hands busy, but her mind had been on a loop, stopping where she and Haught has almost kissed and that moment when Nick stopped her.

Nicole stopped her again right then. She said, “No, Waverly, it’s _not good_ . We didn’t leave things on a good note, Waverly. I’ve been so busy helping Dolls that I’ve waited _too long_ to come and talk to you.”

Waverly wanted to says thanks for the space.

She wanted to be left alone.

She was mortified and could barely be in the same room without feeling like she’d been an idiot. Instead, she opted for a short dismissal, “I’d rather be alone now.”

Nicole bit her lip, “Okay, I’ll leave in just a sec. But before I go, I have to say something.”  She pursed her lips slightly, “Waverly, I don't want to mislead you. There are things about me… I just wouldn't want you to be disappointed. You deserve…”

Waverly interrupted her, her emotions boiling just under the surface, “What do I deserve?”

Nicole responded with tenderness, “The truth.”  Nick reached out and touched her hand.

Waverly wrinkled her forehead in confusion, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Nicole didn’t have an immediate answer. She would almost say something, but would stop herself mid thought, trying to find another way to spit it out. Eventually she said, “You're really important to me. I…”. She paused, caught by a warming, almost friendly gaze from Waverly, again not sure how to continue. Nathan’s advice came to mind seeing Waverly’s warm smile. _Talk less. Smile more._ Nicole smiled back. The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. “You've got me hooked and I'm a little overwhelmed.”  She stopped waiting for a response before saying any more.

Both women froze, trying to unravel the delicious mystery of the person in front of them. As they stared, both could feel the sparks where their hands were touching, not moving an inch for fear they'd break the connection and the moment would be lost.

The silent stares and all the longing behind them was interrupted when a group of British soldiers pushed open the tavern doors and called out, “We’re here on business of the king.” The first man in the door held a piece of paper in the air, while three soldiers rounded his shoulders, bayonets in hand. “We’re here to search the premise on the authority of King George.”

The men went straight for the cupboards and back to the cellars, pushing things out their way and making a huge mess as they went. In the commotion, Wynonna finally came downstairs. “Here-yee, here-yee, on orders from the mad king we are here to royally fuck up your life.”

Waverly turned to the head officer, “Don’t mind her.” She smiled broadly. “She's My big sis and a little damaged in the head.” Waverly went to Wynonna and pulled her into a booth in the back with a stern whisper to behave herself.

Meanwhile Nick walked over confidently to the man in charge, “I’d love to help your men out. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?”

The red coat answered with a callous shrug, “None of your goddamn business.”

Haught was not fazed, “I’m always looking for a way to make some silver, so if there’s any money in it, my loyalty goes to the highest bidder.”

The soldier’s face cracked, “A man after my own heart. Fine, who cares anyway? It seems petty to me. We’re looking for a large barrel, marked PN”

Nick gestured to Waverly, “Miss, maybe the fella here would like a drink? Have a seat, tell us a little more. Must be some _special_ barrel for you to go to all this trouble.” Nick pulled out a chair for the man, hoping to get some more information from him, “You know we have excellent cider here in the Massachusetts colony. Have you had any yet?”

“I’m more of an ale man.”

Nicole answered humbly, “Ale is mighty hard to come by these days. Most folks are just barely making ends meet.”

Waverly confirmed, “No ale sir.” She turned on the charm, “Maybe that’s why this barrel is on your most wanted list. Thirsty commanding officers?”

The soldier took the bait, “Hell if I know. Sounds more like his mistress’s charge. Captain Swain is more of a rum man and we have plenty of that. Rum to spare.” He scoffed at the thought.

Waverly quickly delivered the man a cider, trying to catch Wynonna’s eye from across the tavern. They were all too familiar with Swain and rum. Just the mention of his name put the sisters on edge.

Nicole joined the soldier at the table, laying on the machismo, “I never would have thought a British officer would stand to be hen pecked. Must be some woman.”

The soldier took a thirsty drink and sighed heavily, setting the mug back on the table, “More witch than woman if you ask me.”

The sentence took the wind out of Nick’s lungs. She tried to remain calm. She said, “Oh, a real man-eater?”

The conversation continued with some random complaints about the fairer sex that gave little insight into the search in progress. The foot soldiers returned with an all clear and their leader thanked Waverly kindly for the cider, “Better than water any day.”

Waverly gave him a friendly wave good bye and then sank to the floor as soon as he was out the door. Wynonna joined her with a small barrel under her arm. The two stayed quiet for a few minutes, waiting for the coast to be clear.

Wynonna called out, “Haught, get your skinny legs over here.” As the red head approached, Wynonna lowered her volume, “A performance like that deserves a tall drink, compliments of the house.”

Nick slid down next to the sisters, “I could use something to calm my nerves.”

A few sips later and the trio was feeling more relaxed. Wynonna shook her head in disbelief turning to Waverly, “You really think Swain, the pain,  is under some woman’s thumb?”

Waverly shrugged, “Apparently, not just a woman, a witch.”

Nick clenched her jaw. That word again. Wynonna noticed the body language and thought about what Dolls had said. They knew very little about the tall stable boy. She called him out, “I saw that Haught. What’s your beef with witches?”

This was not a question Nick wanted to answer, but the rum on an empty stomach and her general warm feelings towards the Earps loosened her lips. Still, she took another swig before answering. And a deep breathe. “My mom was accused of being a witch. The town shunned her. She was drowned in a lake.”

There was a palpable silence in the air. Waverly put a hand on Nick’s knee for comfort. Wynonna said, “And now we know why you don’t like to talk about your past.”

Waverly hit her sister and tried to comfort Nick, “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

Nick was embarrassed, “Sorry to bum you out with my sad story. It happened when I was very young, so I didn’t see the body or anything.” She downed the last of her rum, “Long story short, it means when someone says witch, I get a little on edge. I hope I didn’t loose my cool too much.”

The sisters shook their heads in unison. Wynonna said, “No, you were awesome. You flayed that lobster like French chef. We know Swain is using British resources to look for the barrel. He's committed. And you totally saved our asses with those damn stencils.” Wynonna pushed Haught in the shoulder, “Frickin’ genius.”

The pair made Nicole feel better. She was feeling the rum as well. Their kind word made her realize that she _had_ managed to keep her cool, despite it all. It was nice to be noticed for helping out.  She leaned back and soaked it all in.

Waverly said, “What would we do without you?”

Nicole answered, “I’m at a loss for words, but as long as we’re telling true tales, did you know that in my previous employ I manned the galley on the Whisper? I would _love_ to help you clean that kitchen and get it ship shape before we get slammed with another crazy weekend.”

Waverly popped up fast as a lightning bolt and pulled the redhead to standing, “Let’s get you to work before you sober up.” She turned to her sister, “You too, lazy bones. Up, up.”

Wynonna resisted, “Haught, now see what you’ve done. Goddamn goody-two-shoes.”

//

By the time the kitchen was clean, there was no time to rest. The midday diners started rolling in, slowly. It was still Monday after all.

Nick wanted to take a walk, but promised to be back later. All that booze, so early in the day left her feeling worn out. Before stepping out, she caught Waverly’s eye and tipped her hat, hoping to finish their conversation when she returned.

//

It was a slow night at the tavern. Wynonna turned to her sister, “I saw you eyeing peach fuzz all day.”

Waverly said, “So.”

Wynonna replied, “Exactly. So what are you going to do about it?”

Waverly hid her blush by stacking the cups. She knew if she stayed quiet Wynonna would fill in the conversation.  And she did.

Wynonna went on, “We live in revolutionary times, sis.  No need to wait in the wings.”

Waverly was surprised to hear this, “Not too long ago, you said Nick was _light in his loafers._ Why the change?”

Wynonna answered, “I liked how he handled the red coats this morning. And all that work hiding the loot turned out to be a good idea.”  She shrugged, “He's proven himself…” She paused looking for the word.

Waverly suggested “...worthy?”

Wynonna answered wryly, “Worthy of consideration.”  Waverly looked confused and Wynonna quickly clarified, “For your consideration, not mine.”

Waverly loved to she her big sister get befuddled like this. She decided to tease her a bit more, “Because you're in a relationship with Dol...”

Wynonna stopped her before she could even get the words out, “D doesn't do relationships.  Its just sex.”

Waverly's eyes bugged out, “Wait. What. Aren't you worried about getting a bun in that oven?”  She gritted her teeth at the thought.

Wynonna bit her cheek. “You need to be _creative_.”

Waverly looked on, waiting for more details.  Wynonna wrinkled her face, “I hate to ask, but what about you and Champ?”

“Mmmm. It was a little one sided.”

Wynonna said “Eww.”  As her sister's face stared back at her, she went on, “Well, it doesn't have to be. Come on, Waverly, you're a modern woman. Don't settle for less.”

Wynonna grabbed her pistol from its holster, “We fight for freedom!”

 Wynonna winked and leaned in close to her little sister, talking out of the side of her mouth. “Screw Champ. Not literally. Even without a bloke, you, Waverly Earp can be independently satisfied. I hope you're taking matters into your own hands, sis. If you know what I mean

It made Waverly smile.

Wynonna noticed the smirk and cheered to the young woman. She grabbed a couple of glasses, “Let's drink to that. To self-sufficiency.”  As their glasses clinked, she dared Waverly to be brazen, “And when it comes to love, cheers to being brave and going after whatever your heart wants.”

Waverly joined in, “And to the revolutions, in matters of politics and love”

Wynonna was glad to have another reason to raise her glass, “Here, here. To revolutions. And revelations!”

//

When Waverly saw Nick leaning in the doorway, she asked Wynonna to close up for the night.

She walked up to the redhead, full of determination, looping her arm around her elbow. She suggested they take a walk in the night air. As they walked Waverly kept a respectable distance, matching Nick's leisurely pace.

Nicole thought of the details of last time they were alone together. Her nerves took hold of her thoughts momentarily. She loosened her collar-- to try and make it easier to breathe.

They walked down the street quietly enjoying the evening. The end of summer meant the start of harvest season. Everyone was busy. With the war going on, locals had taken to trading with each other, finding substitutes for imported items and going to the black market.

As they rounded a corner, Nick pulled something out of her vest pocket. She said to Waverly, “I got you a surprise.”

Waverly peeked up and held out her hand.  “Oh” she said, “Caramel!  My favorite.”  She pulled both ends untwisting the wrapper. Before popping it into her mouth, she said, “Nick, you're the sweetest.”  She began chewing the confection with glee. “These are like my favorite things ever. Thank you.”

Nick let out a sigh of relief, “You're welcome.”

Waverly was smiling and reached her hand to loop around Nick’s arm. The pair were much closer now. Nicole could feel a set of eyes on them. Older women turned to her husband and then back to Nick and Waverly. She said, “Young love. Such a delight.” The words sent a flutter of butterflies into Waverly's stomach.

The sights and sounds of the street got Waverly talking about her first days at the tavern and moving into town. She’d grownup in the country. Moving so close to Boston was a big change. Sure she was excited. But at night any strange noise would wake her up.  Wynonna would tease her and then give her a little cuddle to help her fall asleep.

Since Shorty died, Wynonna had moved into the master bedroom. Waverly had her own room and slept like a baby. The early jitters were ancient history.

That got Nicole thinking about her first night on the Whisper. She had never been on a ship before. All night she tossed and turned until she was groggy and green.  When she couldn't stay awake any longer, she slipped into a foggy dream.  In the morning, when the captain called for her, she'd wake suddenly, hitting her head on the ceiling.

She hit her head daily for the first few weeks, until finally her muscle memory kept her down at a crouched position in her small quarters.

This story and Nick's animated telling made Waverly smile. _So so so... so this is what it feels like to match wits with someone at your level! What the hell is the catch? It's the feeling of freedom, of seein' the light_

_It's Ben Franklin with a key and a kite! You see it, right?_

She had never had anything like this with Champ. It also was not lost on her that they were both talking about beds. _Whooo. Cool your jets Earp._ For the meantime she would have to settle for holding hands and lingering looks.

They walked a little further before turning back to the stable.

Waverly went over to the wagon for a closer look in the bed. She beamed back at Nick, “Dolls said your plan was amazeballs. He passed a few men on the road that he’s sure were sentries. Each time they barely took any notice.”

Nicole nodded soaking it in, “I'm so glad to hear it.”

Waverly was standing in the wagon bed and reached out her hand for helping jumping down. Nick bowed jokingly, “If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it.”

Waverly said, “You're such a flirt.  Yet somehow chivalrous.”  She curtsied and twirled before hopping down to the waiting arms. She misjudged the distance and they both fell into the hay bales lining the wall. For the second time in the same day Nicole could feel Waverly's breath on her face. The smaller woman was on top of her, laughing and apologizing for being so clumsy, but she was not getting up. Waverly lingered there, staring at Nick's face. They both stopped laughing, inching closer.

Nick started to speak, “Waverly… “ but Waverly stopped her with a finger to the redhead’s lips.  

“Shhh” she said.  She caught Nick in her gaze and they froze. Ever so slowly, she slid her hand down Nick’s chin and to her neck.

Nick took a huge gulp grabbing the hand before it reached her chest, “Waverly, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Waverly kept her momentum, inching her face closer to Nick's lips. She whispered softly, “It's okay. I know.”

Nicole was not entirely clear on what Waverly knew or thought she knew.

Before Nick could clarify, Waverly's lips were gently kissing hers and she was kissing her back. They were soft, tender kisses that sent the hair on the back of her neck straight on its ends. Waverly pulled Nick closer slowly deepening the kiss with delicate nibbles at the edges of Nick's lips. It was a perfect first kiss that lingered at the first taste and first touch.

Nick could feel Waverly's curves leaning into her frame and taste her apple blossom lips.

For a moment the redhead managed to stay her instincts. She pulled back from the kiss and held Waverly's waist in her hands. She was smiling with dimples that Waverly had never seen before. She whispered between heavy breaths, “Wait a sec,” and asked, “What do you know?”

Waverly paused at a loss for words. _How to come clean about spying on Nick?_ She sat up a bit, still pinning down her crush with her legs and long dress. “I'm know you're not a boy, err I mean a man.”

Nicole was surprised and relieved, “No. You're right. I'm no boy-man. And you're okay with that?”

Waverly explained, “The other day you asked me if I was where I wanted to be? Everyday, I feel like our lives are in danger. Today, when the soldiers came in and searched the tavern, you were so smooth. You made me feel safe.”

Waverly thought about their conversation this morning. “This morning when you said we were _sitting ducks_ , I freaked out for a second. I was scared, but then I realized what I wanted. I don't want to hide. Or cower. I want to be free. Nick, I want you.” As she spoke Waverly continued to move on top of Nick, pushing her flat against the hay bales.  

Waverly leaned in for another kiss. Before making contact, she said, “I don't want to die without following my heart.”

Waverly's lips tugged at Nicole's. Nicole could feel Waverly's breath and pressed her tongue gently into the brunette’s open mouth. At the first touching Nick's tongue against her Waverly moaned and leaned her whole body into the kiss, rolling her torso against Nicole and returning the open mouthed kiss with a sudden passion.

Nicole leaned up, lifting Waverly back onto her knees and then to a position where Nicole was comfortably on top. She held Waverly's check in her hand and then kissed a trail of kisses down from Waverly’s pulse points and across her neck. With each kiss, Waverly gasped lightly. Nicole could taste her and left a small mark on Waverly's neckline.  With the pull of the kiss Waverly tugged Nick into her body. She whispered in her lover's ear, “Please don't stop.”

Nicole slid one hand from around Waverly's hips to cradle her ass.

Outside, they could hear a pair of fellows leaving the tavern, singing patriotic songs into the night.  The noise caused them to pause.  Nick sat up and Waverly pulled her back by the ruffles on the front of her shirt. She narrowed her eyes and gave a lopsided grin, “Tell me stable boy, what's your real name?”

Nick's eyes blinked slowly and then came back connecting with Waverly's, “Its Nicole. Nicole Haught.”

Waverly played with Nicole’s shirt while she thought about that. She asked, “And you really did grow up on an apple farm?”

Nicole nodded, “Yes. And I really was the black sheep.”

Waverly's heart was swelling as the pieces fit together so neatly, “And your mom really was killed for being a witch.”

Nicole grabbed both of Waverly's hands, “And I almost had the same fate, when I was caught with the minister’s daughter. But my brother Nigel asked Nathan for a favor and they saved me from a mob-- determined to burn me at the stake. That came out really bleak, but really I'm pretty happy with where I am now.”

Waverly grabbed Nicole's hands. She asked, “Have you been hiding ever since?”

Nicole nodded, “Ever since then, they call me Nick.  Hiding in plain sight. Seeing the other side of a world-- in so many ways. Some good, some bad.” Nick played up the bravado.

Waverly asked, “So just one swash-buckling adventure after the other?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

“You really lay it on thick, Nicole. Have you always been such a flirt?”

Nick thought about it, “Only with girls I really like.”

Waverly pulled Nick back on top of her. Their faces were inches apart. She gave her a tender kiss on the cheek and Nick whispered in her ear, “And that's the whole truth.”

Waverly closed her eyes and let the kisses fall on her cheeks but she could stay still for only so long. She grabbed Nicole and pulled her body closer. She pushed herself up to kiss the redhead on the mouth then drawing her back to kiss her neck. She whispered back, “Oh Nicole…” She wanted to say thank you for telling her the whole story, but at that very moment, she didn't feel like talking anymore except to ask Nicole one thing, “Can you show me your room?”

//

It was dark and quiet in the yard by the time Waverly snuck back to her room.  She was not overly cautious as she figured Wynonna would be over at the tavern with Dolls. _D doesn't do relationships. Ha!_

Her lips were a little swollen. The last hour left her mind buzzing. Nick, or should she say Nicole, lingered with every kiss leaving Waverly aching with desire, but Nick had insisted they go slow. Looking back Waverly thought about moment she pressed herself hard into Nick's thigh and the hunger growing inside her. She pulled at the hem of Nick’s shirt but Nick's shyness, or was it chivalry, kept her hands at bay, carefully staying inside the boundaries of some unspoken line of safe and unsafe territory.

Waverly lay in bed, unable to sleep, replaying again and again the events of the day. When slept finally came, she had a smile on her face.

Meanwhile Nick managed her insomnia with a walk inside the yard, staying quiet and walking slowing. She eventually settled on a bench and watched the clouds shifting on the face of the moon. There was a light breeze in the air that rose and fell in waves like the sea. She too had a smile on her face. She took in the moment and watched time pass with a renewed sense of joy.

//

It's hard to imagine, but amidst all this wonder and discovery the villains in this story were sticking to their evil ways.

The full moon fueled Clootie’s supernatural powers. She was determined to use her magic to find the mysterious boy.

As Captain Swain watched, Lady Constance laid out her charms and potions on the small sitting room table.

She said, “The moon is high and full. Finally, we can track this barrel.”

She mixed herbs and oils with a small mortar and pestle, all the while repeating an incantation of Ancient Greek.  Swain stood by in silence. She added a drop of this and a leaf of that. Her tempo increased and she reached for his hand. She grabbed a knife and poked the middle of his palm, drawing blood. She held his hand firmly while the drops filled the small bowl. She did the same to her own hand, adding the drops one by one.

The bowl began to glow and then burst in a shower of glowing embers. The specks of light exploded and then slowed to float in the air like cottonwood seeds.

Swain’s jaw dropped open. The witch smiled with glee. Her face was transformed by the power of the spell. It looked more like a jack o'lantern than a sane person’s visage.

Swain’s guts told him to run but it was too late. He was in too deep.

The glowing embers circled the room in a widening spire.

They spread to the edges of the room and then flitted out the windows and up the chimney.

As the last of the sparks faded into the distance, Constance turned to her loyal lieutenant. She said, “Let the pretties find our treasure now.”  She raised her index finger to Robert’s jaw and traced a line from one ear to the other with a long sharp fingernail.

He forced himself to smile. He asked, “So what now?”

Constance grabbed a small map from her desk. She unrolled it on her table, anchoring the corners with her bottles of oils and herbs. In the center of the map she poured the ashes from the mortar and pestle. She stared at the black smudges.

Together she and Robert watched the ashes float on the surface of the parchment, spreading in a circle, slowing marking the movements of their sparks across the countryside.  

//

Ten minutes later Nicole saw a few sparks in the sky. They meandered down into the courtyard. She watched them curiously as they collected themselves into a small swarm circling the row of large barrels stacked in the back corner of the yard. She looked at the one marked PN. She herself had carefully stenciled over it with the letters to spell out INVERNESS, cleverly turning the P into an R. The bugs were circling the barrel with speed the swarm turning into a glowing spiral at the top of the barrel.

Her face wrinkled in curious confusion as she stepped closer to see what they were, fireflies?

She reached out to catch one from the edge of the spiral, catching it between both hands.  It felt warm, yet there was not flutter of wings or buzz of life in her hand. She closed her fingers tightly trying and opened a peephole between her fingers hoping to discern what she'd caught.

It was only a glow of light. She squeezed it tighter and felt the light go out with a little puff. When she opened her hands. She could see the blackness of the ashes, marking her hands in the moonlight. The feeling was ominous.  

The lights blazed and pulsed before fading completely without a trace.

Nick wasted no time. For her this was a call to action. Carefully she rolled the PN barrel off the stack and into the stable. She went to work breaking the barrel down, rib by rib. She bundled the wood under her arm and carried it into the oven in the cellar of the tavern. It took three trips to complete the load. On the final trip she grabbed some kindling from the basket and used her candle to set the wood ablaze. She stayed to watch it burn, wanting to erase every last trace of the barrel and thinking hard about the boy they found inside it.

//

In Constance Clootie’s sitting room, the ashes flared on the map, marking the settlement outside Boston where the Short Man Tavern was found.

As soon as the mark was clear, Constance's eyes went aflame with a lustful gleam. She grabbed the Captain by the front of his shirt and pulled his face close to hers. She spit out the words, “You better fucking find that barrel and bring it back to me.”

She grabbed his hand and pressed the wound in his palm into the ashes, grinding them into his skin. He winced at the pain. She said, "You'll feel it when you've found it."

For Swain he knew this was a life or death mission. The Lady’s charms had fueled his rise in the ranks. But a bargain like that does not come free. The price he paid was to be at her beck and call. He did as she asked and over time it wore at his humanity, each errand pushing him further into unsavory territory.

He wanted to draw a line at this boy, but he was in too deep.

He did as she asked, taking the map and heading out on a horse into the night on a mission from his mistress, however sour the taste it left in his mouth. He felt for the flask of whiskey in his coat and headed out the door.

//

It was early morning when he arrived at the collection of shops and the tavern on the small worn commons.  His hand was still burning. Not from the initial sting, but from a flare suddenly along the way. As he surveyed the buildings, he saw the movement of Waverly inside The Short Man and felt a light go off in his head.

Under his breath he muttered the name, “Earp.”  He finished the last drop of his whiskey.  He had ridden miles on an empty stomach with only the booze to keep him going.

He dismounted his horse and made his way to the front door. It was locked and he pounded hard on the boards, demanding to be let in. His shouts were sloppy and wet, demanding entry immediately on pain of death.

From the stable, Nick could hear the commotion. She set aside her morning chores and went into the tavern kitchen. She saw Waverly let the tall man into the front room.  As the door opened, Swain forced his way in. He grabbed Waverly’s shoulder and pushed her hard. She caught herself on the back of a chair, almost knocked down.

Nick bolted to Waverly. “Are you okay?”

Swain was so busy scanning the room that he barely noticed the pair rushing off to find refuge in the kitchen. His whole framed was unhinged, with eyes darting across the room and a wide stride that moved from one place to another. His hands were raised and he pointed at anything that caught his eye to focus his gaze and steady himself.

He walked up to the two large barrels currently on tap and ran his hands over the top, looking for the markings. The local apple farm had a small brand burned in the side.

Swain turned to look to the yard and saw the stack of barrels along the back fence. He opened the back door and left it swinging open as he stepped outside.

Waverly and Nick watched from the open doorway as he scanned the array.

His eyes stopped and Nick could feel her heart pounding.  On the fence there was a stain on the wood in the silhouette of the missing barrel. He held his cut hand to the place and felt the ashes flare and then fade. Swain spun around on his heels and looked and the women.  He marched inside taking his knife from the sheath.  He pushed Nick to the side and grabbed Waverly's arm, slamming her small frame against the back wall.

The shelf above her trembled with the impact.  

Captain Swain held her shoulders firmly with his forearm. With his other hand he raised his knife to her throat.

Waverly's eyes faced him off and then quickly turned to Nick who was crouching on the floor.

Nick motioned _shh_ and went slowly to grab the handle of a large cast iron skillet. Waverly felt in her apron pocket for the knife she kept at her side.

All this time Swain was spitting threats into Waverly's face. They were barely coherent in his morning drunk rage.

Waverly steadied herself. “What, the fuck, do you want?”  Her postured firmed with her resolve.

Swain seethed and pushed the knife firmly against her neck. “I want the barrel. And I know you have it.”

Nick tried to distract him, “What barrel?”

His anger exploded physically but he quickly stopped himself and reasserted his position pinning Waverly to the wall. “I don't have time for distractions. Either one of you tell me where it is or I slit Miss Earp’s throat right here and now.”  His eyes narrowed. “We all know she's a traitor anyway.”

Time seemed to stand still. Nick caught a glimpse of Waverly's hand in her apron pocket and saw Wynonna hiding behind the corner with her pistol ready.

Everyone in the room could feel their hearts pounding in their ears, like a drum beat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments are much appreciated.  
> I hope you like the build up and the cliffhanger.


	4. The Room Where It Happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A follow-up to the cliffhanger of Ch 03 and the resulting consequences for our crew of rebels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not many Hamilton lyrics in here, but lots of action and a Wayhaught ending. 
> 
> There is at least one more chapter before we can wrap up this adventure. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

The air was thick with tension.

Waverly could feel the sharp edge of the knife. Any sudden move and she could be dead. Even Swain's breathing was palpable against her throat as the uppermost layer of skin was scraped by the blade.

Nicole saw the tension building. She said, “I can tell you where to find your goddamn barrel, but not until you take that knife away from Waverly’s neck.”

Swain’s eyes turned first and then his body. He said, _"You’re playing a dangerous game."_  
In that instant Waverly could feel the pressure off her neck and saw an opportunity. She knew from the smell of his breath in her face that the man was drunk.

She ducked quickly, and twisted her body around, pulling her own knife out in a single motion.

Swain’s reaction was confused. He spun around, trying to catch the small woman with his hands, but stopped half-way through the motion, as he spotted Wynonna’s gun lifted to his eye level.

The hammer was cocked and Wynonna had one eye closed, as she narrowed her aim. As he scrambled.

She stepped forward closing the gap in a few solid steps.

Swain held firm to his knife, reaching again for Waverly, but before he could catch the edge of her skirt, Nicole swung the skillet wide and fast, catching his chin with a quick thud and then swinging the weight around again to hit his shoulders. Waverly's blade was held tight, facing out in her fist.

Swain was not backing down. He was struck by Nick’s blow to his shoulder and knocked down to his knee.

As he fell, his arms reached out, quickly grabbing Waverly by the ankle and pulling her towards him.

Wynonna lowered her aim and took a shot at her target’s back, careful to avoid any chance of a stray shot hitting her sister.

The bullet hit him squarely in the back. His jacket and shirt were torn and blood quickly seeped through the fabric, but the man was unmoved.

His back heaved as he pulled his prey closer, like a dog.

Swain raised his knife and as he reached into the air, Nick struck his hand with all her might, holding the handle of the skillet like a baseball bat.

The blade fell out of his hand.

He lunged with open hands, going for Waverly's neck like a madman on his knees. As he beared down on her small frame, Waverly sat up and drove her knife into his throat. She pulled the blade sharply to the right, leaving a gash in her wake. The skin of his neck tore opened like a sack of flour.

Swain’s eyes flared. His hand moved from Waverly’s neck to his own.

He looked lost and confused, staring at his hand, dripping with his own blood.

He sunk down, defeated and alone in his terror.

All the while, his eyes never left Waverly’s  face. He tried to speak and then went still. He fell suddenly on her lap. Nick and Wynonna grabbed him quickly and pulled him off Waverly.

His warm blood spilled across the front of her dress and onto the floor.

They heard footsteps running down the stairs.

Nick and Wynonna pulled hard at the bulk of a man, slowly dragging him across the room to the cellar door.

Wynonna kicked the door open with her foot. The pair heaved the body through the door and listened as it bumped down a few stairs before coming to rest.

In unison, they ran to Waverly.  She was getting up quickly, slipping in the pool of blood and staring down at the red covering her clothes.

The steps came closer and Nick quickly ushered them out the door.

Once outside, they frantically scanned the courtyard for witnesses.

Nick grabbed Waverly’s shoulder, “Lets get in the stables." The three moved quickly. "Did you see anyone?”  

Nick looked behind them once more, checking for signs of life.

Wynonna rushed Waverly to the nearest open door of the stable.

Nick was right behind them.  She closed the  door quietly and turned back around to the sisters. “We've gotta get Waverly out of these clothes. Wynonna, I'll stay and watch. Can you get her some clean clothes?”

Wynonna muttered under her breath, “We’re fucked.”  As she walked out, she threw her arms in the arms, almost ready to give up. 

Just as the group had exited the kitchen, Dolls had come in.

The steps on the stairs were his.  His eyes scanned the scene in the kitchen.

He went to the window and spotted them headed into the stable.  

There was a thick trail of blood on the floor that led him straight to the cellar door. Inside, he found the body. He went check for a pulse, but stopped short when he saw the man's neck wound. Swain's face stared out lifeless and limp. His mouth was hanging open. So were his eyes. Dolls knelt down to close the lids before exiting the stairwell.

Alone at the scene of the crime, Dolls grabbed a bucket of water from beside the kitchen door and a handful of rags from the cupboard.

All the while, he stayed alert for any signs of his friends.

Or enemies.

Seeing no one, he went to work scrubbing the floor. His ears remained vigilant, but the tavern was quiet despite the echo of the gunshot still echoing in the back of his mind.

Through the dingy window, Dolls caught sight of Wynonna’s silhouette rushing from the main house and across the yard. She had a bundle of clothes and made her way into the stables.

 

———

 

At the same time, in the stable boy’s small quarters, Waverly stepped out of her bloody dress.  

Nick turned around to give her privacy. As she waited for Wynonna to return she spoke softly, “Waves, are you okay?”

Waverly wound her dress up in a tight bundle to hide the stain across the front. As she did this, she took a deep breath. “Well. I got one step closer to the rebellion, that's for sure.”” She half smiled and grabbed up her hair nervously.

“Not quite the way I expected to start the day.” Nick joked.

Waverly looked down at her underwear and bloomers, suddenly feeling a little bashful. _This was not the way she expected to end up in Nick's bedroom stripped down to her knickers._ She asked Nick, “Do you think he's dead?”

Nick pressed her lips together tightly, still facing away from the conversation.  

She tried to break the news softly, “Mmm. Yep. I'm pretty sure he's a goner.”

She listened carefully for signs of a response from Waverly, wanting to see her face. There was silence in the small room.

Time had suddenly slowed down, almost to a complete stop.

Hearing Wynonna run into the main house, the door banging against the frame, Nick went on, turning her head to the side, “Don't feel bad. He was going to kill you.  Frankly, if it wasn't you, it would have been me or Wynonna.” She bit her lip. “Can I turn around?”

Waverly reached out for Nick's shoulder, “You're such a gentleman, Nick. Of course.” The women locked eyes and Waverly reached out to get a hug from Nick. “Or should I say gentle woman?”

The intent of Waverly's gesture was clear. Nick responded warmly, wrapping her arms around Waverly. She was glad to offer comfort. Waverly let the hug linger. She said,  “Oh yes, definitely a gentle woman.”

Nick held Waverly tighter at the reference to her secret. It was freeing to finally be seen and known by someone, especially Waverly. She could feel Waverly's breath against her neck, slowing slightly and taking in the scent of Nick instinctively for solace in the midst of the storm.

With a few minutes of repose to soak in what had just happened, Waverly felt safe enough to consider what had just happened. _What the hell just happened? What would have happened if…? If what?_ Waverly held Nick the tight and let go of her armor. In that moment she was safe. Tears swelled up in her eyes. She spoke softly, “I was so scared.”

Nick loosened her hold, “You're not the only one.  That was a close call.”

They could hear Wynonna headed back from the house and slowly stepped back from the embrace. Waverly said, “It's not over yet.” Her hands were shaking.

Nick grabbed the shaking hands, offering reassurance, “Hey, I'm not going anywhere. I got you. We're _all_ here and we’re going to take care of this.”

Waverly blushed. She could hear her sister sliding open the heavy door of the stable and leaned in quickly to Nick whispering, “This is not exactly how I pictured the first time you saw me stripped down to my bloomers.”

Nick took in the sight and sighed, shaking her head from side to side, “Me neither.”

Just then Wynonna appeared with Dolls at her side. She handed Waverly the fresh clothes. Wynonna made eye contact with Nick. He had been right there defending Waverly.

Nick said, “What can I do to help? Whatever you need, I'm here.”

Wynonna noticed the closeness between her sister and Nick. Waverly was nervously unfolding and stepping into her dress.

Wynonna stepped between the pair, offering her shaky sister assistance.  Nick stepped back to give her room.

Wynnonna turned around, speaking over her shoulder. “How about we give my sister some privacy?”  She held the door open while Nick walked out to face Dolls.

The sisters had a wordless connection. Wynonna grabbed Waverly by the neck and pressed their foreheads together. She leaned back and gave Waverly a kiss smack dab in the middle of her forehead. “We got this.”

It was the second time in two minutes Waverly had the same words reassurance but at this point in time, she _seriously_ wouldn't have minded a third. She poured water into the wash basin on Nick's table and scrubbed her hands. The bowl was red almost instantly, as Swain’s blood mixed with water. Waverly persisted, scrubbing under her nails, wanting to be free of the stains.

Wynonna set her hands on Waverly's shoulders leaning in for a hug of sorts. “I wish it was me instead of you, baby sis. But we’re in this together now.”

Waverly said, “Nick too. Right? You're good with that?”

Wynonna considered her sister’s suggestion.  “Yeah, whatever you want. He was right there in the thick of it.”

Wynonna gathered Waverly's hair in her hands and pulled it back in a bundle. Wynonna slowly was putting clues together in her mind. She said, “Wait a sec, is there more going on here?  What happened last night after you two went in your little walk?  I almost forgot about that with.. well you know.”

_Boy, did she know! It was totally understandable._

_But where did she start?_

The suspense was driving Wynonna up the wall with curiosity.

“Oh, come on. No secrets between sisters.”

Waverly answered, “We had a very nice talk, as usual.”

Wynonna rolled her eyes, “And… get to the good stuff.”

Waverly was blushing and her heart was pounding. She could hear Nicole and Dolls talking quiet in the stable just on the other side of the door.

Wynonna teased her, “I see that look. Waverly Earp.”

Waverly smiled and let out a sigh.

Wynonna answered back, “Fine. Enough said. You finally picked a smart one. Now let's clean up this mess and dump this loser’s body before the sun is up.”

 

/

 

Wynonna strode out feeling ready to tackle this problem. She looked at Nick and said, “Sorry about the cold shoulder in there a minute ago.”

Nicole smiled, “Consider it forgotten. We've got bigger fish to fry. Or should I say lobster?”

Waverly smiled and cringed at the same time.

Wynonna elbowed Nick in the ribs and said under her breath, “Too soon.”

Dolls cleared his throat and spoke, “Ha. Ha.”  He wasn't laughing. He said, “We need to get rid of the body. Any ideas?”

Wynonna spitballed an idea, “He's already halfway down to the cellar. We could toss him in the oven.”

Waverly and Nick stared back with their jaws dropped.

Wynonna said, ”What?”

Waverly filled Wynonna in, “First off, it would stink to high heaven.”

Nick nodded pointing lightly at Waverly in agreement. She could sense Wynonna bristling and daring Nick to offer something better. The pressure was on. Nick suggested rashly, “We could chop him up and feed him to the sharks?”

This time Wynonna wrinkled her nose, “You volunteering for that Haught?” She wrinkled her face, “That there lobster’s got a lot of meat on his bones.”

Dolls had a hard time restraining a smile. “I love these ideas, but what do you say to dumping the body near a recent battle. I mosey on down in the wagon, shove him in a ditch and cover him with a few branches.”

It seemed so obvious. There were nods and shrugs of agreement all around. Wynonna gave him a friendly jab on the shoulder, “I'm glad someone's thinking clearly.”  

Nick said, “I'll grab the wheelbarrow to move the body.”

As Nick went to the door, Waverly was right behind, “I'll show you where the wheelbarrow is.”

Once they were in the yard Nicole turned to Waverly, “Babe, you know, that _I know,_ where the wheelbarrow is. Right?”  She was showing off her dimples with a friendly grin.

Waverly answered, “I know.” She reached out for Nick's hand, knitting her fingers in between Nick's longer digits. “I was thinking about Swain’s reason for flying off the deep end. Did you hide the barrel?”

Nick leaned close and whispered, “I burned it last night.  All that's left are the barrel rings." She loosened her collar. "After you left, I came outside to, er, _cool off_.”

She slid her finger under her collar and opened the top button for more air. “There were these strange lights floating around and they honed in on the barrel that held Tyler.”

The memory was still fresh in her mind. She looked at her palm and the dark marks of ashes was still there. “Um I hate to say it, but it seemed almost supernatural. I've never seen anything like it in my life. It was like they were scouting out the barrel.”

As Nicole relayed the story Waverly considered it carefully. “Did you see the way he, um, I mean Swain, _he_ was acting totally crazy.”

Nick shook her head with an ironic understatement, “Uh, yeh. I kind of picked up on that.”

Wynonna and Dolls waved to them from the back door of the tavern, “Yoo-hoo. Any chance that tea party will be over soon?”

Waverly rolled her eyes, “We better go.”

 

//

 

Together the four of them got the body into the large cart. One arm fell off to the side. Nick noticed the palm with the black stain at its center.  She lifted the arm by the shirt cuff to get a closer look. She could see where the knife had sliced the skin and the blistered burn marks as well. She cringed and swung the arm across his body to center the weight.

Waverly quickly draped a canvas tarp over the body while Dolls rolled it out the back door.

All the while, Wynonna was watching the town square through the tavern’s small front windows. It was early enough that not much was going on. It seemed odd to her that Swain would have been traveling alone, but there wasn't a sign of another red coat in the commons. We was especially keen to see the small crew that had searched the tavern earlier.

She did see his horse. Or what she assumed was his horse tied to the fence at the western edge of the commons.

Wynonna turned her head to see Dolls wheel out the back door, glad to see that no one in town was the wiser.  

In the barn, Nick and Dolls loaded the body into the wagon. They spoke quietly, in short sentences, speculating about why and how he’d come to the tavern that morning.

Dolls asked, “Clearly, he was after the barrel. But did he know about the boy hiding inside? Have you heard rumors of smuggling bodies at the docks? “

She answered, “No, nothing. It’s all talk about the war and basic rations. Anything else is a a luxury these days. It's back to basics, but I'm glad to go today, if you'd like. Maybe there is something new going on. I'd like to find out as soon as possible-- so we know what we're up against.”

Dolls thought about the offer, “Wynonna and Waverly can handle themselves without us.  Don't you think?”

Nick could see Dolls grin behind his stoic tone of voice.  She nodded and answered with her own suppressed smile, “I'd like to think we have some value.”  

Dolls shrugged, “Yeah, some.” He winked at Nick, feeling a certain comradery.

Nick said, “I can be back well before nightfall. Whether I'm needed or not, I'll be around.”

Dolls said, “Right now, we need every hand we can get.” Usually he would have stopped right there but he went in against his nature. “And you seem to be particularly valuable Haught, despite a few, mysterious characteristics. I'm glad to have your help on this task.  And I'll be even happier when it is behind us.”

Nicole said, “You and me and the Earps. One step at a time.”  She asked, “After you drop the cargo, do you think you should check in on Gus and Tyler?”

Dolls answered, “It’s another ten miles out there. Do you think there's any way these guys could connect the dots to all the way out there.”

Nicole wasn't sure exactly how to answer this question without sounding like a crazy person. She had seen some strange sights.

Dolls could sense her hesitation. He said, “Swain had a weird thing with the Earps. Wynonna would buy his rum under the table, but she never stood up his shit.”

Nick asked, “Did he know Gus? Or the family?”

“No, but the officials have a way of finding things out, even out in the hinterlands. The Earp name is not legally connected to Gus and Curtis, their last name is McCready.”

Nicole let that sink in. She had heard Waverly allude to the fact that Gus had taken her and her sister in, but Nicole had assumed they were family, her aunt and uncle. Even on the long drive out to drop off Tyler, Nicole hadn't pieced it together. 

Clearly, Waverly considered Gus and Curtis family. There were as close as any family Nicole had ever known— or heard of in books and fairy tales, as Nicole's personal experience in the area of family was rather limited. She thought about Nathan, her old captain. She did think of him _like_ a brother. Only now, since saying goodbye did she see that she missed him just as much as she'd ever missed Nigel, her brother by blood.

 _Sometime family isn't about blood. The truth came like a spark that tied together a lot of things that had been haunting her lately._ She should have know that better than anyone by now.

She found some burlap sacks of oats and loaded them on either side of the body to help lodge it into place.

Nick and Dolls discussed a plan for the day.

Nick would go get Swain’s horse in the hustle and bustle of the morning. Later Nick would head out and explore the port and look for leads.

Dolls would drop the body at a battle site he knew.  Nothing monumental , but a few casualties on each side and a remote enough location that the delay in finding the body would've raise any questions. He would check in at the homestead after changing up the wagon’s sideboards and his own coat along the way.

For the next few days, they would be very careful. No work for the rebellion. No special missions. No risks.

Everything went according to plan.

The body slid into a ditch. Dolls grabbed some branches and drug them over the bulky frame. He made the sign of the cross and rode off west on the deserted road.

He traveled back roads and pulled off at a pond for lunch, where he changed clothes and switched up the wagon. As he did so, he shook his head. Dolls considered how Nick clearly knew a thing or two about the value of disguises. His own experiences under cover bolstered him. It gave him another tool to do whatever he needed to do. He loved this new way of fooling the powers that be, undercover in plain sight.

Out at the farmhouse, Doll’s smiling face was a big surprise to Gus.  Curtis was confined to his bed. The boy was nowhere to be seen. Over that past year, Gus and Dolls had developed a trust that was starting to verge on friendship. For both, the trust was a rare and valuable commodity. The smile said a lot.

Gus told Dolls that Tyler was hard at work in the fields tending the apple trees— probably hiding from Dolls. “He's skittish little fella, isn't he?”

Gus invited Dolls inside. He told her what had happened and asked her to be on the lookout for trouble. She looked worried but what was done could not be changed. She was ready for whatever was next.

Dolls asked if anyone, any neighbors, had seen the boy. “No. Like I said, he keeps a low profile. Quiet as a mouse. He can freeze at any minute and blend into the woodwork.”

Dolls was curious about the enigmatic boy. He was still a mystery,  a new moon in a cloudy, night sky. Dolls said, “I can't stay long, but can you think of any reason someone might be after him?”

Gus offered him a seat, “I don't know anything for sure, but the boy carries that darn bag with him everywhere he goes. He even sleeps with it in his bed. One night he was plum tuckered after a long day in the orchard. I took a peek inside. It's a small gun. It looks like a pistol, but it's got a case on it, below the hammer. And the barrel is long and narrow with markings all along it.”

Dolls scratched his chin, “Well, that's something.”

Gus agreed, “But other than that, and his strange history, he seems harmless enough. He's all skin and bones. He minds his manners, eats like a horse and usually sleeps with one eye open.”

Dolls patted the table and then stood up, “I doubt there's anything to worry about. The body's out of the picture. We think he was acting alone, but it never hurts to be careful.”

Gus asked, “What about Waverly?”

“She's tougher than she looks.”

“Always has been. It doesn't mean she can handle killing a man.”

“Gus, she's doing okay.  She didn't have a choice. That makes a big difference.”  Dolls considered the first time he killed a man. Dolls was fighting for his life and nothing more than a boy at the time. Afterwards, he had nightmares but it wasn't the killing that stuck with him. It was fear of losing his own life and the fear that left its mark. He vowed to master that fear and keep it at bay.

Dolls headed back to town, hoping to arrive back before nightfall.

 

//

 

Nick had a long walk on the roads around town and at the docks. She stopped to eavesdrop on any group lingering in conversation, but it was a quiet day with little of note.

She found a familiar face at the docks, a slim man who usually had good info and could be trusted. While they exchanged pleasantries, she bought a couple dozen oysters from him. She knew he traded with British officers. It was easy enough to ease into her real agenda.

The man hadn't heard anything about Swain lately, just the usually skimming. Nothing new or unusual. Nicole thought back to the crew that he searched the tavern a couple of days back. They had said someone about a woman. The fishmonger had heard of a lady, but only rumors. She didn't have a name.

Nick saw a small British ship at a far dock. She took a deep breath and headed towards it.  As luck would have it, she ran into the same soldier from the tavern.  At first, she didn't recognize him, leaning against the moorings, face deep under his hat. The man spoke out, “Hey yankee. You gave me a taste for cider and now I crave it, especially on a hot afternoon like this one.”

Nick smiled. Her heart was pounding. _What next?_ She decided to keep it simple. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Hell no.” The soldier sneered. “That day was a waste of time and good men. Swain didn't come back to HQ last night. Fuck 'im. Maybe he's finally tackling his private missions on his own time.”

Nick said “So the crown doesn't need… what was it you were looking for anyway?”

The man shook his head, “Pfft, hardly. A bloody barrel, for chrissake. We’ve got enough trouble on our hands without skimming of the side, for extra coin.”

Nicole remembered her "alter ego" from their first meeting. She said, “Don't knock a little free enterprise. That's what gets me up every morning.” She felt so much lighter with this new information. She wanted to get back to the tavern quickly. She said her farewell. “Speaking of silver, I have somewhere I need to be. Good seeing you.” She tipped her hat and strode off quickly, back home.

 _Home?_ Nicole tossed that word around in the back of her mind as she made her way back to the tavern.

The miles passed quickly. Her thoughts kept drifting to Waverly and her warm delicious kisses from last night. She wanted to protect Waverly. But more than anything else, she wanted this threat to be over— so they could continue to get to know each other.

The foot soldiers she was used to seeing on the road in weeks past were few and far between. Neighbors were out to trade, traveling a little further, looking for everyday items with increasing urgency.

In the last few months, it was starting to sink in that her country was at war and that it was split it two. She had spent years concerned with saving her own skin. In that time, Nick would rather avoid a fight, if possible. The events of the summer of 1776 changed her. Her newfound attachments kept drawing her in, deeper and deeper.

Whether she wanted to or not, she was fighting in this war. It gave her a sense of purpose she had not expected. That was not her intent, but she treasured the idea of doing the right thing and being part of a larger cause. She loved hearing Wynonna and Waverly challenge the revolution to do more for women. Dolls echoed those ideas for black folks, too many of whom were held like chattel and who seemed _invisible_ to many of the movement's leaders. Every day was fresh with ideas and possibilities.

And not just on a political front.

Nick couldn't deny the truth. Despite the short time, she had a new home. She had fallen hard and fast for Waverly Earp.

Now that she knew the feeling was mutual, she had opened the floodgates on a tide she had kept at bay for quite while. Her mind was going wild with future possibilities. She thought of Waverly's smile and the taste of her lips. She walked quickly and was back at the tavern before long.

When she returned the bar was half full. Nick recognized a few of the regulars, as she'd become one herself over the course of the summer. Wynonna was at the bar and Waverly in the back. After peeking in the front, Nicole circled around to the back door to say hi to Waverly.

She showed her the basket of oysters with a smile.  “Have you eaten dinner yet? I thought you and I might have a little early supper. If you're free.”

Waverly laughed, “I don't know. I usually am booked three or four days in advance. I could make an exception for you, but…" She point to the basket of oysters. "…I am _not_ so sure about these.” 

Nicole was surprised, “You don't like oysters?” She looked at Waverly more closely, “But have you ever tried them?”

Waverly cringed, “I've eaten oyster pie many-a-time. Way too many-a-time.”

Nicole understood Waverly's aversion. She had to make a few sketchy oyster pies herself, while out at sea. Sometimes it was the only thing they had around— besides onions and potatoes. She knew she could charm Waverly into giving them a second try.  She said, “I promise I won't make oyster pie. What would you say to eating raw oysters?”

As she spoke Nick grabbed a short knife and plied a few of the creatures open. She laid them out on a platter, looking for a little vinegar or salt.  As she worked, Waverly's curiosity grew. Clearly Nick knew what she was doing.

Nicole talked as she worked, gradually filling the whole platter. “I know you've had a bad day.”

Waverly couldn't deny that, “The worst day.”

Nick offered up her proposition. “But life is short, so I thought I could help you put the past behind you.” As the redhead spoke, Waverly let herself soak in all of Nick's many charms. 

“I was down at the docks, listening for news of the day. I happened to run into a guy I know who has the best oysters and a good set of ears. On the serious side of things, he said that nothing fishy was going on as far as he knows. I ran into the soldiers too. They say 'you-know-who' was acting alone. Maybe, he went completely off his rocker completely. Either way, it’s good news. And we. Should. Celebrate.”

Hearing the same old sounds of the tavern all day long had lulled Waverly into a state of relaxation that was more than skin deep.

In the morning, Nicole had suggested they act like nothing had happened. Everyone was in a state of denial or silence about the gory morning. Nicole knew the best way to keep a secret was to act if there was no secret at all.

Wynonna had stayed close and teased her about Nick. Even now, Waverly could hear her sister’s words running through the back of her mind.

_Earlier in the day Waverly was doing a breathing technique she'd read about. She tried to walk Wynonna through it as well. Waverly knew they could both use a little relaxation._

_They found a quiet spot in the back of the tavern. Waverly said, “Close your eyes.”_

_Wynonna closed one eye, but kept another on the door._

_Waverly told her sister to listen to her breathing, “In and out, in and out.”_

_Wynonna did give it try and then broke down laughing. “I'm sorry baby girl, but after a fight like that— there is only one in-and-out that will bring me peace of mind.”_

_Waverly scowled at her sister. Typical!_

_Wynonna wasn't fazed. “Don't knock it. There's something about life and death moments that can really fire up **other** instincts.” She held up her right hand to make a solemn pledge, “I swear I'm telling the whole truth.” _

_Then she swung her arm around and gave Waverly a slug on the arm, “Now that you've got a decent beau, you might give it a try yourself.  You know, let off a little steam.”_

_Waverly was used to her older sister's “sage” wisdom, and usually took it with a grain of salt. But as Wynonna spoke she remembered the fire she felt with Nick that same morning._

_Wynonna might not be wrong. After all, an Earp is still an Earp._

 

It was undeniable. Waverly was glad to see Nicole, her smiling face and her steady hands at-work. Wynonna's advice had been nagging at her all day. It only stoked her feelings from the night before. Now that she and Nick were finally in the same room, Waverly could feel her hunger stronger than ever.

As Waverly's imagination went its own way, Nick continued with her story, “On the less serious side of things, he told me he would give me a good price on some oysters.”

Nick finished shucking the last one and said, “Viola. Dinner is served.”

Waverly smiled. She would give them a try. “I'll get us some ciders.”

When she returned, Nick was sitting on a stool and had pulled up a second seat directly across. Waverly sat down and stared across the corner of the table. She sipped her cider and waited. She enjoyed the view, drawing out the moment where they were finally face-to-face.

The day had moved so quickly, the two hadn't had a moment alone since this morning. Waverly took in the sight of Nicole like a tall glass of water, “So, are we gonna do this?”

Nicole laughed, “Anchors away.” She grabbed a shell and showed Waverly her technique for sliding the meat and juice into her mouth. Nicole smiled back at the brunette as she chewed the delicate meat. She said, “Mmmm. Tastes just like the sea. So good.”

Waverly glanced down at the platter and then up skeptically at Nick.

Nicole just dared her without a word. Her delicious brown eyes waited patiently to see what would happen next.

Waverly said, “Fine.” The oysters were big and juicy. Waverly slid one into her mouth and was surprised at the way it filled her entire mouth. Nicole watched while Waverly face reacted to what was happening in her mouth.  Finally the younger woman swallowed.  She said, “Not bad.” She went to pick up another without a word.

The two picked up shells in unison and took the shooters with a quick tip of the elbow. They drank their cider and laughed. In a few minutes, there were only four oysters left. It had been a quick meal, but Wynonna was wondering where Waverly's had been. She popped in the back and surveyed the situation. “Oh I see how it is. Don't you guys want to share?”

Nick was embarrassed. “Wynonna please, help yourself.”

The senior Earp leaned over and grabbed a bite. She took her sister’s cider and helped herself to a drink. “Better watch out baby Earp. These things are an aphrodisiac.”

Wynonna finished the remaining oysters. Before walking away, she pointed to Nick, “I've got my eye on you, ginger.”

Once Wynonna went back to the bar, Waverly whispered to Nicole, “An aphrodisiac? Really?”

Nicole confessed, holding both hands up in surrender, “Guilty as charged, if you're supersticious.”

Waverly stood up with a gleam in her eye, pointing a stern finger at the stable boy. She shook her finger and then grabbed Nicole's collar pulling her into a kiss. She leaned back a little bit and whispered in Nicole's ear. “You could have given me a warning, Haught. Your smile alone drives me wild. Now that you filled me up with raw oysters, who knows what could happen next?”

Nick was overwhelmed with Waverly's response. She loved it, no doubt, _but it was surprisingly forward_.  She swallowed hard and managed to return the verbal sparring. “Right about now, it seems like I'm the one who could use a warning.” She could smell Waverly's hair brushing against her shoulders.

Waverly said, “Didn't anyone warn you that the Earps were trouble?”

Nicole’s body was frozen on the outside, but inside she could feel herself melting and opening up for the perfect pixie in front of her. She managed to keep her cool. She said, “You might be trouble, but I always had the impression that you were worth it.”

Waverly loved the way the redhead could keep calm even when she had her feet to the fire. She narrowed her eye and said, “Only time will tell Mr. Haught.”

Nicole’s heart was pounding. She took a gulp of air and managed to eek out “Do you have any plans for later tonight?”

Again Waverly leaned in to the seated redhead and whispered into her ear, “As soon as I’m done for the night, I'm sneaking into your room and stripping down to my bloomers.” All the while, she was pressing her knee between Nicole's legs, teasing her knowingly.

Waverly bit Nicole’s earlobe gently and then let her lips trace a trail of breathy kisses down Nicole's neck. Then, she leaned in for one final whisper. “We’ll see where things go from there.”

When Waverly was done, she let loose of the collar and sashayed out the back door with the tray of empty shells. Nick was out of breath. She kept her eyes closed and tried to calm her breathing.

When she opened her eyes she was startled to see Wynonna glaring from the doorway. _How long has she been standing there?_

Wynonna said, “See what you've gotten yourself into Haught. I hope you're ready. And worthy.”

Nicole said, “You and me both.” She downed the rest of her cider and tidied up the kitchen with a spring in her step.

 

//

 

As night fell, Dolls rounded his way into town. Waverly and Wynonna tended to the dinner rush. Nicole brushed out Swain’s horse and gave him fresh hay in the back stable bay.

At the homestead, Gus served her newly minted family of three warm biscuits and beef stew. As usual, Tyler had two helpings. He helped her clear the table. When dinner was over, together he and Gus, one under each arm, helped Curtis make the short walk from the dinner table back to his bed.

In the city, Constance Clootie had lost all patience.

She had an aching sense that Swain was gone. Once the sun was set and the moon rising, she set about repeating her ritual from the night before. Only this time, she did not seek the barrel or even the boy. She needed her henchman back.

She asked the spirits to take her to Swain. Drops of blood from her own hand set the sparks adrift and then drilled down to a place on the map.  Constance rang a bell and summoned her driver to get the carriage ready.

Her nostrils flared as she steadied herself for action.  She wrapped herself in a long velvet cape and set out into the night. In the distance, she could hear  the cannons of a nearby battle thumping.

 

//

 

Nicole decided to join in the fun at the tavern. There was music playing and voices raised in cheer. She found a seat at the bar that let her sneak in snippets of conversation with both Wynonna and Waverly as the night went on.

She was glad to see Dolls. She waved as he entered and she scooted one stool over to make room at the counter for her compatriot. She said, “Drinks are on me tonight.”

Dolls shook his head. He knew from experience that neither one of them would be paying for their drinks, but it was the sentiment that counted.

Amidst the rumble of the tavern Nicole assured him that Swain was a lone actor. She said the rest of the army was not interested in this barrel. She said, “After all, there's a war to fight.”

“That's what I thought. So far, so good. Here's to the four of us.” Dolls clanked glasses with Haught, then in the air in the general direction of the Warp sisters and drank up.

 

//

 

Meanwhile a few miles away, Constance Clootie’s shiny black carriage narrowed in on the location of the body and parked next to a low place in the road.

Constance held her hand in the air and followed the pulse of the stinging embers melting into her skin.

Her smile widened as the flares burned more ferociously.

Step by step she got closer, calling out to Swain as if he were an injured animal.

When she finally found his body, she ripped the branches that were covering him and tossed them aside.  His face was frozen in death. She knelt down to touch his face.

Her grief was temporary, shifting to anger and then comfort.

She grabbed his face tightly and said, “Don't worry baby.  Mama will make everything alright.” His face did not respond. The wound on his neck hung open and was full of dust and dirt from the ditch. His clothes were muddy and, frankly, he smelled of rot. Despite his ragged appearance of death, Constance gleamed with a yankee spirit that would not be deterred, no matter how seemingly insurmountable the odds.

Constance spoke an enchantment and lifted his body with a flick of her wrist. He floated in the air, like a man laying on a table. She guided his body to her carriage with her magics.

As they drove home, she lifted her leg to hold the body across the carriage in place with her boot. She pressed her foot hard against his chest and held onto her own seat with both hands as they tumbled back to civilization.

She called to the driver to whip the horses hard. The carriage shook as they sped back to her townhouse. She whispered molasses reassurances to Swain's stiff and lifeless frame as if he could hear every word. She said, “Don't worry my sweet, your time is just beginning. We have so much more to do.” His face was a still as a dolls, pale and without a soul.

 

//

 

The tavern crowd thinned as the night wore on. Wynonna refused to refill mugs and shoved the last of the lonely, late night crew home a little sooner than usual. She could see Xavier’s road weary silhouette starting to slump and was determined to bed the man before the night was over.

Wynonna waved goodnight to Nick and Waverly who were finishing up the closing routine with surprising efficiency.

Nicole skirted the outermost areas of the tavern collecting mugs and plates from tables. She quickly dropped them off in the kitchen, grabbing a rag to wipe down the tables.

As she leaned over the long tables,Waverly snuck a peek at the curves of her hips and backside with a hooded glance. Nicole saw this and blushed.

Waverly whistled, hoping to break the ice.

It worked. Nicole swaggered back to the kitchen, “So, little lady, I get the distinct impression that you like what you see.”

Waverly answered coyly, “I can't say for sure without a closer inspection.”

Nicole tossed her dishrag into the corner, “I'm pretty sure that can be arranged.”

At this point Nicole was leaning into Waverly, sliding her body against the barmaid. Waverly leaned right back, unashamed. She pressed her lips together, “Let me just lock up and I'll be done for the night. Give me a few minutes and I'll meet you in your room.”

Nicole could oblige and wait a few minutes longer. She considered any last details that might need tending at the stables, and shut the back door carefully on her way out.

 

//

 

The body of Captain Robert Swain lay face up on the long formal dining room table of Lady Constance Clootie. The room was lit with a crystal chandelier and candles along the wall.

Constance was pacing the room, looking out the window periodically for the moon in the sky. She turned when she heard a knock at the back door. She rushed to meet a mysterious man waiting there. He held a large, heavy bag in both hands.

They exchanged minimal words and she rushed back inside to give him the gems he required as trade for his precious load.

He made poured the stones in his hand, carefully counting them. He smiled back with yellowing teeth. “Constance, what a surprise." He shook the bag of coins with a smile. "It's all here. So unlike you. I expected to remind you of our agreement. You owe me a favor for tonight. _This must be a special one_.”

She feigned a smile back, “I don't know _what_ in the world you're talking about, James. But thank you for your prompt service.”

Constance was glad to be rid of the man. When he finally stepped away, she swung the door closed, anxious to return to her project.

She knew when she first met Captain Swain that it would come to this.

Her vision of this moment happened years ago.

She kept Swain wrapped around her finger. He was always loyal, but for selfish reasons. She knew this and did not care. After tonight he would be her loyal subject forever and ever.

She lugged the bag into the dining room, placing it on a sideboard lined with her other supplies. Her knife was at the center of the arrangement. She pulled out the cargo, one at a time, placing them as needed on small saucers from her China cupboard-- The heart of a calf, the head of a goat, thistles and myrrh.  Each ingredient had a smell that brought back memories for the ancient witch. She considered each and its purpose with care, singing a favorite melody and having a light conversation with the corpse at her table.

In her mind, it was a dream fulfilled. She did not know the gunsmith’s apprentice would lead her here. But now that the time had arrived, it did not matter.

She savored it.

She carried the plates to their rightful place in the arrangement, and looked out the window again to check the moon.

Swain made no movement. His filthy clothes had been burned. He lay naked, with a sheet over his torso. The blood that had stained his throat had been washed away by the witch as part of her ritual.

He knew nothing and could feel nothing.

But he was there and for now, that was all that was needed.

Constance clapped her hands together gleefully, “Our time is almost here.”

No one else was in the room where it happened, but it happened nonetheless. Spells were said and blood spilled. The witch raised her voice to the powers of the universe and they answered her request.

Lightning stuck and Bobo was born.

Swain was a dead man, and Bobo wore his skin.

When he opened his eyes, Constance was the first thing he saw. She called him Bobo and made him hers.

He rose slowly, almost falling at the weight of his arms and legs.

He smiled back at his creator.

She helped him off the table and grabbed the back of his neck pulling his ragged face next to hers. “Take you time my sweet.”

The man, or should I say demon?, he had pictures in his mind, but words would not come to his mouth.

He could recall the moments after his death and the mumbled voices of those around him as he lay limp on the floor and then on the stair. The moments after his death haunted him in his re-awakening. He shook his head, trying to be free of the memories tormenting him. He felt fire and hatred deep in his bones. This body came with a mission for revenge.

Constance could see the confusion on his face and the anger in his clenched fists.

She said, “Shhhh. I know it's hard right now. There is so much to do and see and feel, but rest my sweet. You can tell Mama all about it later.”

He could feel her sharing his vicious sense of purpose. They locked eyes and his eyes burned red with a revenant’s rage. There was one word that came to his lips and he struggled to give it voice.  

His mouth was full a spit and fury, but the word was clear, “Earp.”

 

//

 

Waverly brought a bottle and two small glasses from the China cupboard. She carried them on a small tray with a candle, deftly balancing the load with one hand as she opened doors; closing them with an outstretched foot and swing of the ankle.

She had hinted at a fairly brazen plan in the kitchen over oysters and now that the moment was approaching, she realized what she'd said. _Did she have what it took to follow through?_

At the same time she had doubts, she also remembered Nicole’s tenderness the night before. She shook her head against her own worries. She knew it would be fine, great even. Every time she was with Nick, her fears seemed to fade away. Butterflies, not so much, but _butterflies were a good thing_. She could feel them fluttering for the past few hours. They were practically in a frenzy now, stirred up as Waverly prepared the tray and jostled through each doorway opening and closing.

When she was finally inside the stable, she wasn't sure if she should knock. Luckily, Nicole opened the door before she had to. The redhead was biting her lower lip and smiling back with the same familiar dimples Waverly had noticed when they first met.

Nicole stepped back to let Waverly in with her tray. The smaller woman set it down with little thought and then spun around quickly, taking Nicole's face in her hands. When the moment was there, she had no patience. Nicole was surprised by the suddenness but let Waverly push her back onto the small bed.

Waverly pressed her lips against Nicole's. The redhead let Waverly have her way. Her kisses slowed and deepened with each surge. Waverly pressed her forehead to Nicole's. " _I'm so into you."_ Everything else fell away and there was only the two of them. Even though the drab little room didn't matter.

Waverly fumbled with the buttons of Nick's vest. Her attention was divided between the delicious kisses and her desire to be closer to Nicole, to touch her soft skin.

Nicole took a deep breath and slowed the pace gently, holding Waverly's frame and sliding her hands along the bottom curves of her breasts with the heaving of her breaths.

With a more measured pace, Nicole savored the smooth surface of Waverly's lips sliding against hers. Nicole let the kisses become deeper, sliding her tongue against Waverly's. She lingered at the taste of her sweet mouth and the feel of her biting and tugging at Nicole’s lips in return.

She could hear Waverly let out a sighs of pleasure with each new touch. The sound alone was driving her wild.

Nicole whispered back, “Oh, Waverly.”

They paused, enjoying the closeness of their faces, sliding the tips of their noses against each other. Nicole lifted Waverly's chin slightly to at look her, eye to eye. Her hazel eyes were so honest and open in the moment.

Waverly stared back.  She said, “Your eyes are so _you_. Everything is there.”

Nicole turned down slowly, blushing and then look back up to Waverly’s smiling face. Waverly pulled her hair to one side, exposing her neck to Nicole. The red head gently kissed her pulse points, remembering the night before. With each kiss, Waverly’s body arched instinctively, a reaction that did not escape Nicole. She traveled the short distance with careful attention to each step along the way. She tasted her way from shoulder to neck, feeling her passion grow with each moment. With each kiss, Waverly’s movements in response were more and more intentional, a tug here and a rub there. Any nervousness she’d felt before had fallen away and her instincts took over.

Waverly pulled at the fabric of Nicole’s shirt. The redhead unbuttoned her vest and loosened her collar. Waverly tugged again at the shirtwaist, untucking it and sliding her hands underneath to finally make contact with skin. 

As she slid her hands across Nicole's belly, she could feel the redhead’s breath quicken just like her own. There again were Nicole’s eyes, checking in with Waverly, as reassuring as ever. As much as Waverly was driving the direction of this, Nicole was there with her, glad to follow her lead. As Waverly's hand grabbed Nicole's waist, her body was electrified by the soft skin under her fingertips.

It was clear to her that the rest of Nick's top needed to come off. As. Soon. As. Possible.

Nicole stripped off her vest and Waverly helped her get the cotton shirt off, over Nick's shoulders.

Underneath it all, Nicole's chest was wrapped in a cotton binding cloth.

Waverly slid her hands over the fabric, following the curves of Nicole's frame.

Waverly unbuttoned the front of her own dress while Nicole watched expectantly. The candlelight flickered giving the room a golden glow.

Once Waverly was down to the last few bottoms, she stepped to the side of the bed and out of her dress, letting it fall to the floor. She smiled as they both devoured each other with their eyes. Waverly noticed the way Nicole chest was heaving with her breath, where her breasts were peeking out from the top of her binding, begging to be set free.

Nicole saw the beads of sweat in Waverly's cleavage and licked her lips in anticipation.

Waverly was wearing the same white cotton knickers from this morning. She said to Nick, “Hey slow poke, you better catch up.” Her eyes scanned the red from head to toe. She could feel her lips swollen from the kissing and a deep ache for more. She was alive in this moment and savored the connection.

Nicole unbuttoned her trousers and slipped them off with her boots in the pant legs. She meet Waverly back in the middle of her little bed, face to face both on their knees. Nicole saw the sweat, still holding tight to the inner curves of Waverly's breasts.

The glance made Waverly smile. She loved to feel so wanted and so safe.

Nicole said, “As far as I recall this was as far as your plan went.” 

Waverly shook a finger side to side, “No, no, no. This is where my plan begins.” Waverly could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Part of her couldn't believe she'd just said that, but all of her was _glad_ she had. Just getting the words out sent a shiver down her spine that lingered in the small of her back.

Nicole blushed but kept her eyes locked on Waverly's. “Um.” _Gulp._ “I stand corrected.” It was a bit like standing at the edge of a cliff.  _Is this really happening? Yes, Nicole Haught. This is really happening._

Waverly had on a simple corset which she could unlace from the front. She pulled at the lace, untying the top knot and loosening it generously. All the while she watched Nicole watching her.

Waverly lifted her arms and Nicole helped her wriggle out of the corset. After the toss of the thing, her face was there, inches away. And then gratefully, Nicole kissed her.

Nicole's hands reached out and caressed Waverly’s exposed breasts, gradually migrating toward her pink nipples. They were already at attention, but grew even firmer as Nicole's brushed her thumb against the dimpled skin. She took the tip between her thumb and forefinger squeezing it gently and kissing Waverly on the mouth. With each pinch of the fingers, Waverly would moan and pull Nicole deeper into the kiss.

Waverly found the small clasp of Nicole’s chest binding and began to unravel the cloth. The redhead helped her, grabbing the end of the fabric, quickly unwrapping herself with practiced ease. Once free, she put her mouth to Waverly's chest, finally tasting the little specks of perspiration that had been taunting her. She kissed and licked her way around the swelling breasts with small bites and nibbles, before drawing the smaller woman's nipple into her mouth. The moan from Waverly's mouth fueled Nicole's tongue. With the sudden rush of warmth and pressure, Waverly could feel her whole body on fire for Nicole in a whole new way. That tingling in the small of her back grew and shifted from a tickle to a pulse centering her hunger a little further South. She grasped Nicole's hair firmly between her fingers as the redhead lavished attention on each breast.

Nicole's hands held Waverly's waist, pushing and pulling their bodies closer, in time with Waverly's throbbing movements. As they swayed together, Nicole's hand was eventually brushing the edge of her bloomers. Her fingers reached under the waist belt, massaging her hip in perfect time to Waverly's hips. 

Waverly could feel Nicole at the border, a border she wanted Nick to cross.

In response, she quickly undid the knot at her navel, loosening the waistband. When Nicole's hand first slipped under the edge of the fabric, she stopped, “Is this okay?”

Waverly grabbed Nicole's hand and guided them back down to where they were—  and then past her hips and down to her ass on the inside of her underwear. She said, “Absolutely, right where I want you.”

Nicole lifted Waverly a little further back of the bed and kissed her lover's pulse points.

Waverly pulled her closer and took Nicole's breasts in her hands. As she stroked the curves, she could feel Nicole bear down on her, both on her neck and between her legs with a strategically placed knee.

 _Fuck._ Waverly thought. _She never knew it could be so good._ She ground herself against Nicole, wanting to be closer.

Nicole could feel the wetness through the fabric barely clinging to her lover's form. She wanted Waverly more than she had wanted anything before. She could feel the heat between their bodies and the endless softness of Waverly's luscious curves. She knew her own body and her desire, but was surprised by Waverly's passion and self-possession. At times in her life, she thought she might never find someone to love her the way she loved them. Before now, she had held her closeness with Jane as the peak, a rare place, she assumed she could never return to. She had accepted her fate, until Waverly Earp caught her eye. Their summer together had re-lit that fire in Nicole's heart. Any remaining thoughts of the minister’s daughter were now dust in the wind. Her only thought was of Waverly and the joy filling her heart at that very instant.

As if reading Nicole's mind, Waverly slipped out of bottoms and said, “Nicole, I need you to touch me.”

Nicole loved the way she said that. _Need._ Nicole teased her, tracing her fingers around the edges of Waverly's pubic hair, “Need is such a strong word.”

Waverly was not deterred. _Two can play that game._ She teased back, “Come on Nicole. I'm sure you have certain needs too.” Waverly slid her hand slowly along Nicole’s abs. She started at the navel, and made her way along the skin, following the curve of her pelvis under the waistband, south through the red triangle of hair, just barely grazing her wet center. Waverly held her hand there, feeling Nicole lean in to give Waverly better access. She was warm and full with her own juices. At the contact, Nicole shivered from head to toe. She'd never been touched this way before, not by another person at least. It felt so right.

Waverly reached down deeper, sinking her fingertips into Nicole's lips, seeking out her clit among the folds.

The word that came to Nicole’s mind was _perfect._ Her father used to harp on the point, that _nothing_  on earth was perfect. Only the divine could be described that way. Mothers would call their babies perfect and he would sneer. The word carried weight for Nicole. She rarely used it, despite years away from his iron fist. In that moment, Waverly's love was perfect. She let herself be loved and sink into the perfect pleasure of Waverly's hand on her sex. She was free and filling with bliss.

Waverly loved the way Nicole's body moved with hers, wordlessly telegraphing her longing. Nicole's hips pushed her center into Waverly's fingers. She could feel her lover's clit rising up in the heat.

Waverly stroked her deftly, in much the same way as Waverly had pleasured herself the night before. She let herself move slowly, repeating the movement and savoring the swelling desire rising up between them.

Nicole wanted to speak, but was struggling get words out. “Waverly. You're amazing.” Nicole had never been in this position before. She could hardly believe what she was feeling, let alone that she still had her knickers on.  She surrendered completely, rolling over on her back and slipping off her underpants. She opened her legs to give herself more fully to Waverly.

Waverly's heart skipped a beat. She found Nicole's sweet spot again, drawing circles around and around. She took Nicole's nipple in her mouth, and wound her tongue around the tip. She could feel sweat collecting in the small of her back, as their pace quickened.

Nicole took her hand on top of Waverly's and pressed it down firmly with a vertical motion. At the same time, Waverly could feel Nicole's whole body arching into the motion. With each thrust, Waverly could feel more and more of Nicole. _She wasn't sure what Nicole wanted. Or if this was enough._

Luckily her lover spoke, “Waverly, I need you inside me.” Nicole stretched her pelvis up to Waverly. She said one word. “Please.”

Waverly slid a finger inside Nicole’s silky interior. The redhead moaned, “Yes…” Waverly swelled with pride and pleasure seeing Nicole's immediate response. Nicole was velvet and honey. Waverly had never felt anything so perfect in her life. She anticipated Nicole's rising desire and slid in a second finger, massaging the red’s hungry heart with her steady hand. Nicole's response echoed approval in waves, sending pulses of ecstasy through Waverley's body as well. The rising passion was mutual, enrapturing Waverly as much as her Nicole. She could see Nicole was close to climax. Waverly leaned into her lover with the slightest gusto and quickly brought her to orgasm, in a pounding series of thrusts that surprised the both of them.

Waverly leaned down and kissed Nicole gently, plying a few more moments of pleasure from her touch, before sinking in a healthy afterglow.

Nicole was at a loss for words but felt the need to speak, “Woah, that was…. woah.” She had a smile from ear to ear. “I never in a million years…”

Waverly was glowing as well, “So, I did alright?”

Nicole laughed and Waverly laughed too. Their bodies were wet and sticky in the summer heat.

Nicole scooped her up Waverly her arms, moving on top of the buxom brunette with glee, “Waverly Earp, I am so glad I found you.” She dove with her smile into Waverly's neck with a few playful kisses that quickly became more serious. She wasted no time with teasing, moving her fingers right to where Waverly wanted them.

Nicole moved slowly at first, finding a beat and quickly moving in synch. She asked Waverly, “How would you feel about some kisses blow the belt?”

Waverly swallowed to catch her breath, “Yes.” Nicole began kissing down her torso eventually finding Waverly spread and ready.

As Nicole's mouth explored, Waverly whimpered again, “Yes, absolutely yes.”

In no time, Waverly was unable to form words. Nicole's idea of a kiss sent Waverly spinning. Nick had heard some drunken confessions in her years on the Whisper, that had inspired this kiss. Her explorations were quickly rewarded with Waverley's response, and she was loving ever minute of it. It was a taste of pure pleasure, with no other purpose than to show her love.

Nicole stopped momentarily, “Babe, can I?”  Her hand was cupped at at Waverly entrance.

Waverly moaned, “God yes. Whatever you want. Yes.”

Nicole’s finger soothed an ache Waverly didn't know she had. Wynonna may have had a point about the old in-and-out. She needed this reverie more than ever. The world had fallen away and nothing else existed.

The redhead worked Waverly's g-spot with one hand and sucked hard on her lover's clit with her mouth. Waverly was already more aroused than she could ever remember.

The combination sent Waverly to climax quickly, like the cork on a bottle of champagne.

Nicole milked the orgasm, drawing it out with her hand and her mouth, letting Waverly ride the waves of pleasure and bask in the glow of each spasm, like they might never end.

Eventually Waverly gently guided Nicole to lay her head on Waverly’s chest. Their fingers intertwined and played against each other without any purpose other than feeling close to each other and letting that feeling pollinate the air and every little note of contact.

There was so much Nicole wanted to say, but she felt no need to speak. There was no need for words.

She thought about the Mississippi Delta, with with branching waterways all leading back to the river itself. It was a thousand miles away. In the fertile silence, her mind was wandering to wonderful places she wanted to share with Waverly Earp.

Waverly soaked in the smell of Nicole, laying on her chest. She let her fingers walk across her porcelain back.

On the table, the candle flickered. Nicole loved the feeling on her back of Waverly's relaxed and playful touch. Without moving, she said, “That was… wow.” Nicole pieced together her thoughts. She scooted up a bit to look Waverly in the eye. “Waverly, I've never done that before. You're just… I've never met anyone like you.”

Waverly was a little bit confused. And flattered. The words just came out, “Really? _Never?!_ You're joking, right? ‘Cause that was… woo… well, really great.” She fanned herself with her hand. “I'm still in a cloud.”

Nicole laid back down, tracing outlines across Waverly's figure. She didn't want to ever forget how she felt right now. She drew a circle around Waverly's navel, slowly circumnavigating and hoping the get smallest reaction from Miss Earp.

Waverly let Nicole's words sink in. The barmaid said, “You're serious? I thought… we'll who cares what I thought? It was a first for me too. Champ, well. Again, who cares? Right.”

Nicole said, “I just kept thinking how perfect you are.”

 _“Really?”_ Waverly was flattered and loving the pillow talk, despite the cramped quarters. “Well, the feeling is mutual, Miss Haught. Maybe next time, you can come up to my room.” Waverly lifted the sheet, to cover them both. “I have a much bigger bed.”

Nicole stopped her, “I'm sorry, can you repeat that? My mind went numb when you said _next time.”_

Waverly gave her a light slap, “You silly. _I said I have a bigger bed in my room.”_

Nicole propped herself up of her arms and leaned over Waverly, “I love these words I'm hearing, next time, my bed. It all sounds delicious.” She dipped down, kissing Waverly's clavicle with deep kisses, punctuated by blowing cool air across the kiss. And then again. She definitely wanted to practice this art of making love to Waverly Earp again and again. She was all aglow. “Are you sure your sister won't mind?”

“Pfft! No. Half the time, she's over at the tavern with Dolls anyway.”

Nicole said, “I thought that was a secret.” Her smirk let Waverly know that she'd known about Wynonna and Dolls already, but she had a point.

Waverly sighed in agreement, more tuned to the kisses on her neck, than thoughts of her sister. “Mmm, that's right. Shhh…” She held a finger to her lips, making light of the lapse.

Waverly was joking, but Nicole couldn't help but think to herself, about their own little secret.  _Which would be most damning to the sisters if anyone should find out, the freeman or the Sapphist?_ Sure, Nicole had been hiding in plain sight for ages, but Waverly had not yet felt the cost of that erasure.

She couldn't linger on such gloomy thoughts for long. She saw the tray on the table, “Waverly, did you bring us drinks?”

“Oh, yup. I almost forgot. I guess you could say I had other things on my mind.”

“Mmm, hmm. You and me both, Miss Earp.” _You and me both._


End file.
